Sow the Cornfield, Reap the Future
by Tiffany Park
Summary: Fei Wang Reed dreams about the future where his plans for Yūi's ultimate death in Seresu fail, so he alters his actions, and Yūi's upbringing, to ensure the outcome he desires. The future does, indeed, change course, and at first all seems to be going swimmingly. However, Fei Wang Reed has neglected to take some important factors into consideration.
1. Chapter 1: Header and Disclaimers

TITLE: Sow the Cornfield, Reap the Future

AUTHOR: Tiffany Park

CATEGORY: Drama, dark fantasy, horror, AU. Crossover with the Twilight Zone episode "It's a Good Life."

SPOILERS: Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle Chapitres 150 through 172.

RATING: R

CONTENT WARNINGS: Violence, blood, dismemberment, three decapitations, grotesque transformations, character deaths, two human monsters, and zombies. But at least there are no bad words...

SUMMARY: Fei Wang Reed dreams about the future where his plans for Yūi's ultimate death in Seresu fail, so he alters his actions, and Yūi's upbringing, to ensure the outcome he desires. The future does, indeed, change course, and at first all seems to be going swimmingly. However, Fei Wang Reed has neglected to take some important factors into consideration.

STATUS: Complete

ARCHIVE: Please ask first

DISCLAIMER: Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle and its characters belong to CLAMP, Del Rey Ballantine Books, Random House Inc., Kodansha Ltd., Funimation, and probably a whole bunch of other people and companies I know nothing about. The Twilight Zone was created by Rod Serling, and ran on CBS from 1959 to 1964. The episode, "It's a Good Life," first aired in 1961 and was adapted from the short story of the same name. It was written in 1953 by Jerome Bixby. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author. This story may not be posted elsewhere without the consent of the author.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Knowledge of Fei Wang Reed's true wish will be helpful to the reader in a couple of places, but it's not terribly important.

While this is a crossover, I have done my best to make it understandable even if the reader is unfamiliar with the Twilight Zone episode or Bixby's short story.

The Twilight Zone did a pretty faithful adaptation of "It's a Good Life," but there are a few significant differences between the episode and Jerome Bixby's short story. This story is mostly based on the episode, but I've also included some bits and pieces (heh) from the original short story. Additionally, I have made some changes to accommodate putting Yūi into Anthony Fremont's place (for example, Yūi can't read minds, but Anthony could) and to move the world of Peaksville, Ohio into this alternate TRC storyline.

For those interested, the episode can be viewed online at sites like Hulu and YouTube. The short story is also available at a number of places online. Neither requires much of a time investment (the episode is only 25 minutes long, and the story takes even less time than that to read through), and both can be easily found with Google or some other search engine.

Happy Halloween!


	2. Chapter 2

**Sow the Cornfield, Reap the Future**

**By**

**Tiffany Park**

Fei Wang Reed woke up in a foul mood.

This wasn't a particularly unusual event. He was not given to geniality on his best of days, and was at his happiest when he was planning convoluted schemes that would unfold to another's detriment. He was most likely to smile during those enjoyable mental exercises, and what might be a benign expression on anyone else's face always struck terror into his underlings' hearts.

He sat up in his luxurious bed, tossed the covers aside, and got up. His head swiveled to and fro, his eyes seeking something that would break—preferably, with a great deal of noise and fragments. His jaundiced gaze lit on an elegant chest of drawers.

The explosion shook his entire pocket dimension.

Minions came running. He blew them up with the same casual contempt he had displayed for the furniture. Little more than animated flesh puppets, they were easily replaced, and thus disposable. Besides, that particular batch of humanoids had been flawed, and he always found them an eyesore whenever he chanced to look upon them. He had more in the works. Better ones. He was building an army of soldiers and monsters capable of fulfilling his plans, his ambitions, his dreams...

While his mood had been lightened by the explosions, that last thought revived his ill temper. Dreams, dreams upon dreams...

He had had a prophetic dream, and it hadn't been a good one. It had revealed that some of his favorite plans were doomed to failure. Those schemes had been a source of great pride to him, being among his most tangled and convoluted, and inescapable. He had thought he'd plugged every possible loophole, cut off every avenue of freedom or possible change. But other individuals, it seemed, would interfere.

Others always caused problems.

Somehow, a key cog in his machine of manipulation and power would slip its gears, and the entire assembly would reconfigure itself into a new mechanism. One that would not be under his control. It would be wild, unpredictable, depending entirely upon the strength and will of people who should be mere tools, but would instead take fate into their own hands and bend it to their desires.

Somehow, some way, that magician-child would survive the fate Fei Wang Reed had so carefully crafted. The boy wouldn't even accomplish his most important objectives! His journey for Fei Wang Reed would start well, but ultimately the fool would do everything wrong; he wouldn't kill his designated targets; he wouldn't even die properly when he was no longer needed. How inconsiderate.

As he dressed, Fei Wang Reed considered the flaw in his beautiful plans.

He had originally considered that flaw a strength, the glue that would hold the entire creation together, the seed that would bear the ultimate fruit of the magician's death.

Human emotions.

Specifically, the emotions of the magician.

Those emotions would allow the magician to bond with his fellow travelers. No matter how much the magician tried to restrain himself, how much he would attempt to isolate himself, he would always care about others. He would worry about them, watch over them, guide them, grow to love them. All of them. They would recognize that, and despite the magician's apparent aloofness and feigned foolishness, they would love him back. All of them.

They would love him enough to make sacrifices for him. Shocking, unexpected, and—from Fei Wang Reed's point of view—unfathomable sacrifices. They would offer themselves on the altar of destiny for the sake of that magician. They would love him enough to do whatever it took to save him.

First the image of the desert princess, Fei Wang Reed's own creation, would love that magician enough to sacrifice her own life to avert his intended purpose and set him on the road to redemption. Then the Dimension Witch's Suwa pawn would sacrifice a critical part of himself to prevent the magician's carefully crafted doom. Between them they would unravel crucial pieces of Fei Wang Reed's further plans, putting the culmination of his ultimate goal into doubt.

All because they would grow to love someone who, by all rights, should be unlovable.

It was unacceptable.

What he really needed, Fei Wang Reed decided, was _not_ a walking lump of neuroses, guilt, and angst. Not a person capable of the kinder human emotions, who would feel them despite his best efforts to bury them. No, such a person would inspire pathos and fellow-feeling in anyone who cared enough to dig beneath the surface, beneath the stubborn withdrawal and the façade of uncaring laughter. Anyone who looked deeply enough would find the human emotions, not only the self-loathing and misery, but also the kindness and empathy, the love, and respond in turn.

Understanding and compassion and love. "Feh," Fei Wang Reed spat.

Due to his own machinations, those people would travel together, face danger together, and rely upon one another. And now, because of his dream, he knew it was inevitable that all who could bond emotionally would, indeed, become bonded.

Fei Wang Reed instead needed a true psychopath. Not a cliché, raving psycho, but a glib, clinical sociopath who could blend in and deceive others about his true nature. Someone who would only know how to imitate the gentler human emotions, but not actually experience them. Someone without empathy. Someone who would not be capable of bonding with others, instead being selfish, self-absorbed, manipulative yet charming, and impulsive. A conscienceless narcissist with grandiose expectations; a barely human creature willing and capable of doing whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted, with no regard for consequences, either to himself or to others.

A change of plan was in order. What a good thing, Fei Wang Reed thought, that he still had some time before he set that particular minion on his road to the future. There was time to adjust his strategy, and also to adjust the little pawn's life experiences.

First, he needed to make certain that the wizard king never factored into the magician's life. Fei Wang Reed was certain that the ultimate failure of his plans for the magician could be laid at the king's feet. King Ashura, Fei Wang Reed decided, could never so much as meet the magician, not as a child, nor even after the child had grown into an adult. Such a meeting was far too fraught with peril, no matter when it occurred.

Somehow that king would take a broken, hopeless shell of a child, patch the fundamental damage to his psyche, and raise a decent human being. A human being who would love his companions and value their lives. It seemed unlikely, but perhaps the king might also have similar success with an adult magician. The two had always been bound by fate. The magician's personality traits should be set by the time he was an adult, but it was possible that the king could still effect change for what was, in Fei Wang Reed's opinion, the worse.

No, no meeting could ever be allowed to take place. The risk was too great. But the most critical encounter must be dealt with first. Fei Wang Reed understood now that his failure was guaranteed should the two bond while the magician was a child. They would love one another, each more than his own life.

Originally, Fei Wang Reed had thought himself quite clever to use that future bond against them both. They would try to save one another, from fate, from death, and as a result both would die. Fei Wang Reed had created a special curse for the magician that would guarantee that ending: should the king die by any hand other the magician's, the curse would activate. And so, due to the pathetic emotion of love, the magician would never be capable of killing the king. Due to the pathetic emotion of love, the king would try to force the magician to kill him, but because the magician loved him too much, he would never succeed. In his desperate attempts to force the magician's hand, the king would die on another's sword, and then Fei Wang Reed's curse would destroy the magician.

That was the worst outcome Fei Wang Reed had imagined. The best was that the magician and king's deaths would also seal the fate of one or more other interfering individuals.

It had seemed so foolproof, but as always, the universe provided better fools, fools who could out-fool a supposedly foolproof plot...

In fact, Fei Wang Reed realized, King Ashura would be one of the very first fools to defy all the manipulations and curses and entanglements for the future, joining the magician's twin in that destructive honor. Like the twin, he would love the magician enough to suffer and sacrifice everything for him, well before the magician would ever make his destined journey.

The king would commit terrible crimes, murder his own kingdom, offer his own life, even at the risk of making his beloved child despise him. All to save that child, that wretched magician. And the magician would love his king enough to try to save him, too, despite the king's aberrant and cruel behavior.

In the end, while King Ashura would lose his final battle, he would ultimately win the war. Because he would raise the child to be a decent human being who actually cared about people, rather than a callous, selfish monster, the magician would have friends who would love him enough to save him. The magician would live, just as the king desired. And Fei Wang Reed's plans would go awry.

"Ugh, I'm as much of a fool as them," Fei Wang Reed muttered, disgusted with himself. Why hadn't he seen that flaw before? It set the pattern for all the magician's future behavior.

So much for his supposed cleverness. Bah!

Still, the situation wasn't irreparable. Fei Wang Reed just needed to ensure that the damaged child stayed damaged, and that meant keeping him away from the meddling king.

Both the child and his twin brother had been traumatized, abused, and psychologically twisted by their countrymen, and even their own family. One twin was slightly worse off than the other, the one who was forced to live among corpses. The other brother at least was isolated from that repulsive nightmare, locked high above it in his tower.

Fei Wang Reed knew which one would be more vulnerable, which of the twins he preferred, but he would have to manipulate them both carefully. He was, after all, tampering with the future yet again, and that sometimes resulted in unintended consequences. However, both children were guaranteed to have significant emotional problems, and so both ought to be open to the same bait.

Fei Wang Reed chuckled smugly. Yes, he could do things almost exactly as he had originally planned. He would have to deal with the twins a little sooner than he had originally expected, but not by much. Just enough so that he had his little pawn safely tucked away in another world before the king arrived. It really wouldn't be so different, and he would get the proper outcome. In fact, he shouldn't even need to dispose of his pawn. If the magician-child turned out as he planned, he would have a perfect, conscienceless minion.

A shame, Fei Wang Reed mused, that the curse he had put so much effort into creating would no longer be needed, nor even functional. Without the king in the picture, that curse had no purpose and no emotional trigger. In fact, under Fei Wang Reed's new plans, its activation would foul up everything. Fei Wang Reed was a little disappointed. It really was a marvelous construction of magic, knowledge, talent, and skill—if he did say so himself—and its ironic purpose had been so amusing. What a waste to just set it aside.

But the other curse could still be applied. Although, even that one might not be necessary. Narcissists could not tolerate others who might be "better" than they were. They often attacked such people, verbally or even physically, and would drive them away. They rarely resorted to murder, but Fei Wang Reed was sure that, by then, his pet psychopath would dispose of rivals without batting an eyelash. The magician ought to feel grandiose and privileged enough to believe it was his right to eliminate anyone who dared to possess more magic power than he.

Still, better safe than sorry. Fei Wang Reed would get to use at least one of his beautiful curses. Even if the magician wasn't feeling particularly murderous toward the intended target, the curse would still guarantee the kill. And, if necessary, Fei Wang Reed could send the magician off on a little side mission if he became unusable. A fatal one. It was the fate of all failed minions.

But this minion, Fei Wang Reed was certain, would not fail.

"Heh." He grinned as he considered his beautiful new plans. That magician would be almost invincible, even if his deception were discovered by any around him. Others could try to kill the magician, but since the magician would not be constrained by empathy or compassion, they wouldn't survive their attempt. Many of Fei Wang Reed's problems might very well be taken care of in one blow.

Oh, what an amazing tool a clinical psychopath with the power of a god would be. Fei Wang Reed could hardly wait.

The trick now was making sure the magician grew up in the proper environment. That child was bonded by fate to King Ashura, and so would never willingly harm him despite the tremendous power disparity between them. However, the universe did not guarantee that other great mages would not also be capable of managing the magical brat. Perhaps they might even be able to bond strongly enough for some healing to take place.

Such an eventuality was exceedingly unlikely. Left alone, fate and the universe conspired to place the magician with King Ashura, and only King Ashura, but Fei Wang Reed knew he was not the only mage attempting to alter the flow of events. He needed to account for the possibility, however remote.

It could not be allowed to happen. The child had to be given free rein to exercise his magic as he willed. He had to be absolute master of his domain, with a child's disregard for the desires and feelings of others, and the godlike power to force all to cater to his whims. He must never be frustrated in obtaining any wish. He must grow up entitled and self-important. He must believe that he truly was the center of the universe, divinely favored, that no one would question his grace and majesty, and that all would fawn over him and wanted nothing more than to bask in his glorious presence. He would regard others as inferiors who existed only to admire and compliment his supreme perfection.

That child, damaged and twisted, must always take adulation as his due. He would never develop empathy for others, he would believe everything he did was always good, and so become the perfect tool to betray companions—with whom he could form no attachments—and frustrate the Dimension Witch's plans.

Fei Wang Reed's lips twitched as he considered his options. The best way to achieve such an environment would be to make sure that the child was raised by utterly mundane, non-magical, boring, normal humans. To place the child among them would be setting a god among mortals. What need of a god for ordinary human morality and principles? It was perfect. The child would do whatever he wanted, but no one would ever dare to discipline him, nor force him to learn the difference right and wrong. No, to protect their own lives, those poor mortals would behave with the child exactly as Fei Wang Reed wanted.

He hummed tunelessly. Yes, this was a much better plan. A conscience was a useless thing in a minion. The sooner it was excised from that child, the better.

With that happy thought in mind, he went to his magic mirror, and spent an enjoyable day examining potential worlds for his sweet psychopath to ravage.

One small town in particular caught his eye. It seemed perfect, nestled as it was in a world naïve about the true potency of magic, of the forces beyond its inhabitants' ken. A simple, idyllic little place set out in the wide, open spaces, with fields of crops, small local businesses, a close-knit community, and homey, country comforts.

"Peaksville, Ohio," he murmured, rolling the unfamiliar, foreign words over his tongue like a particularly tasty morsel of a delicious dessert.


	3. Chapter 3

When the time came, everything went as Fei Wang Reed hoped. He met with the prince in the tower, who reacted exactly as expected. He met with the prince among the corpses, who barely uttered more than a few words before his twin brother came crashing down to the cold, hard earth.

Fei Wang Reed watched dispassionately through the space-time rift as the living twin shattered emotionally, broken as completely as his brother's body. Seeing his brother die before his eyes had destroyed him. He clutched his twin's corpse, hugging it to his chest, and became as malleable as Fei Wang Reed had expected.

Surprisingly, the shocked boy experienced a few moments of hesitation when told of his future role, but Fei Wang Reed played upon his hopes and fears with great skill. For his brother, this child would do anything, even promise to commit murder. What did it matter to him if he betrayed people he didn't know?

At that moment, he was so vulnerable, so lost, so willing to grasp at any straws offered.

He had balked at the idea of murder, but Fei Wang Reed had adulterated the boy's memories so that he believed his wish to escape had caused his brother's death. That made him a murderer already, Fei Wang Reed told him ruthlessly. What was one more, and of a stranger, at that? Someone who had murdered his own twin brother had no right to suddenly develop a sense of morality.

And the boy had agreed.

Fei Wang Reed gloated. Children were so gullible, so easy to deceive.

So easy to break.

Fei Wang Reed made sure the child knew what was needed about his mission. He explained to the child about the coming journey, the companions who could not be trusted and might need eliminating, the memory feathers which held great power. The boy agreed to everything. There was no more argument.

"Very well, we have an agreement," Fei Wang Reed said. "Now, pass your brother through this rift."

The child looked shocked all over again. "No, no, I don't want to be separated from Fai!" he protested shrilly.

"You must. Your prison will soon break and time will move forward again. His body will rot."

"I want to take him with me!"

"He," Fei Wang Reed very carefully did not say "it," though that was how he regarded the pathetic corpse, "cannot go on your mission with you. He will rot no matter where you take him. His body will be nothing but a burden to you." Fei Wang Reed considered the stubbornness he saw, and finagled, "I won't be able to revive him if he rots. It will make his death permanent, and even going back in time won't change that. He will stay dead forever."

It was an illogical statement, but the child was so rattled, so traumatized and upset, that he took it at face value. Tears streamed down his cheeks. "Oh, oh no," he moaned, and buried his face in his brother's filthy hair. "Oh Fai, oh Fai..."

"I will preserve him for you. I will not let him rot. He will wait for you to complete your mission. When it is all over, you will have him back, alive and whole."

Beaten down, the boy nodded. With jerky, resistant movements, he stood and dragged his brother to the edge of the rift.

"Push him through," Fei Wang Reed ordered. "There will be some resistance, so you must push hard."

The boy did as he was told. The membrane that separated their worlds, and kept Fei Wang Reed away from the boy, gave a burp-like sound as it engulfed the small, frail form. Then the dead child rolled into Fei Wang Reed's private little world. He looked down at it, keeping the disgust from his face.

He would, indeed, keep his promise to prevent this unsightly corpse from rotting. He might need to use it to manipulate his pawn further. He would save and preserve the body until all his plans succeeded.

He returned his attention to his young minion. It was time to reveal to the child his new living arrangements.

"Very well. Now you will go to another country," Fei Wang Reed told the boy, "and there you will wait until I call upon you to begin your mission."

"A-another c-country?" the boy stammered. "Not the mission?"

"No. You will wait, and live, and grow up. You will learn many things there, not least of which will be to use magic. When the time comes for your mission, you will be ready." More than ready, Fei Wang Reed gloated. "Someday, two of the memory feathers will fall into your new home. You will keep them, and make use of them on your journey. You will know them by their magic, and you will know what to do with them."

"When will the feathers arrive?"

"I do not know exactly. You must watch for them. Do not let them become lost." Fei Wang Reed thought that was really all this child needed to know. When he matured, he would be capable of scheming with the feathers to fool his fellow travelers. Fei Wang Reed had foreseen that this guileless child would soon become quite skilled at deception. "When all that must be done in that world is finished, I will send you on your journey."

"Another country," the child mused.

"Yes, another country. You will prosper there. Your life will be greater than you can dream."

The child's eyes widened, and he looked frightened again. "But I'm a twin... I bring misfortune. Even if I go somewhere else..."

"That decision was made by your world, by Valeria. Your new home will be another world entirely."

"But..."

"You need not consider that further. All will be well. You will have a place waiting for you there. Another child has recently died, and you will replace him."

"Replace him?"

Fei Wang Reed smirked. "You will be my changeling."

"But they'll know..."

"They will know nothing. That child had a long fever. He was delirious before he died. Anything odd you say, any mistakes you make in the beginning, will be attributed to that." It had been simple to create a place for his pawn. The fever had been easy to induce with a minor curse, and medicine in that world had not been able to affect a magical ailment.

"But I don't look like him!" the boy wailed. "I look like me!"

Fei Wang Reed repressed a sigh of impatience. He had other plans to further, and wanted this farce over and done with. "Do you think a magician as supremely powerful as I am would not consider that problem? Rest assured, the people there will believe you are, truly, that child."

The good people of Peaksville, Ohio, had been weak of mind. It had been but a trifle to alter all their memories. Now they believed that their boy had always looked like this child. Fei Wang Reed almost grinned. They didn't even remember that their boy had died. That child lay forgotten in a cold grave, at the back of their community cemetery. No one would ever remember that he had ever existed.

"However, before you go, you must cut your hair." Fei Wang Reed threw a small knife at the boy's feet. "Go on, hurry up."

The child caught up his straggly hair and looked mulish. Still too much spirit, Fei Wang Reed decided. How did the child manage that after everything he had been through? Had the shock worn off already? It was a good thing, Fei Wang Reed thought, that he was keeping the fraternal corpse to use against this child. It might very well be needed at some point in the future.

"Cut it," he ordered again. "No boy in that place has hair as long as yours. They will notice it, no matter what I do. You will fail in your mission before you have even begun. And if you fail, your brother..." He let his words trail off suggestively.

The implication was crystal clear to the child. His eyes grew wide and tragic, and he hurriedly sheared off all his long locks. The resulting haircut was a ragged mess, but the good people of Peaksville would assume that no one had cut the boy's hair while he'd had his fever, and would put things to rights.

Satisfied with the show of compliance, Fei Wang Reed continued, "Your new name will be Anthony Fremont. You will have two parents. You will address your mother as 'Mom' and your father as 'Dad.' Do you understand?"

The child looked confused. "Mom? Dad? I don't know those words."

"They are words commonly used for parents in that part of their world. The real Anthony used them."

"Oh."

Fei Wang Reed then tossed out a specially prepared necklace, a gray pendant stone on a plain metal chain. The child caught it before it hit the ground. Fei Wang Reed had taken great care when he had fabricated that charm, and had not used any precious materials. The child was not going to a wealthy family. Anything too fancy or valuable would be out of place in Peaksville, Ohio. The amulet had a spell on it to make it inconspicuous, but there was no point in taking unnecessary chances. "Put it on," he commanded.

"What's this?" the boy asked, but he followed orders and looped the chain around his neck.

"A translation phlebotinum," Fei Wang Reed answered with precision. At the boy's blank look, he clarified impatiently, "A magical charm to translate language and the written word. The language used in your new home is different than the one you speak now. This charm will even make your facial movements appear to match up with the translation of your speech. You will use it until you learn their language well enough to pass." He scowled forbiddingly. "And you must learn their speech and writing. Do not think to rely upon this charm for your whole life. What if you forget to wear it? What if you lose it? Although I will be quite disappointed in you if you lose it."

The boy cast his gaze down, his shoulders bowed.

"You are intelligent," Fei Wang Reed told him. "You will learn."

The boy nodded wordlessly.

As a farewell gift, Fei Wang Reed placed the first curse on the boy, the curse to kill the first magician he encountered who was more powerful than him. The child looked upset again, and Fei Wang Reed altered his memories, so he would not recall that he bore that curse. It would make things easier.

Fei Wang Reed was still disappointed that he could not apply the other beautiful curse he had created, but using it would be disastrous for his new plans, and nullify everything he had accomplished with this child. The wizard king's fate was now sealed, and Fei Wang Reed couldn't have the child vanishing along with the king. Not after expending all this effort.

He then opened another space-time rift. The boy gasped and shielded his eyes against the brilliant light that streamed through the opening.

"You will go through now," Fei Wang Reed told his minion.

The boy looked terrified. "What's on the other side?" he asked, his voice hoarse and wavering.

"Your new home."

The child stared at the rift, apparently frozen with fear.

"I said, go through, now!" Fei Wang Reed snapped out, using his voice like a cracking whip to lash the child into action. The boy took one step, then another, and then the light engulfed him and he was gone.

Sighing with exasperation, Fei Wang Reed closed the rift. Children were so difficult to manage. But at least this one could follow orders. And soon, soon that little boy would discover his own magic, and he would set out on the road to power. He would be both god and demon in that small world, becoming everything Fei Wang Reed wanted him to be. The transformation was all but inevitable, now.

There was only one obstacle left; he needed to make one more move to ensure the child's future, a move that would eliminate a game piece from the cosmic board.

But first, he needed to do a little housecleaning.

Fei Wang Reed looked down at the corpse lying awkwardly on the black floor. With another sigh, he summoned a created minion to remove the body to a holding room, where the preservation spells could be applied, and where he wouldn't accidentally catch sight of the distasteful eyesore.

* * *

**Additional Notes: **

The term "phlebotinum" originated from a "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" staff writer. At least, that's what Joss Whedon has claimed. It refers to a convenient plot device that allows things to work smoothly, which the writers hope the audience won't question. It amused me to have Fei Wang Reed call his magical translator a phlebotinum. Besides, it seemed better than having him sprinkle magic pixie dust on Yūi, but that could just be because I have a warped sense of humor. And yes, Mokona in TRC is exactly the same kind of phlebotinum/convenient-translation-plot-device. At least Yūi's phlebotinum doesn't chatter inanely.


	4. Chapter 4

His body quivering with dread, Yūi forced himself to walk through the rift. The light was so bright, so blinding, he didn't know what to expect. He feared an inferno that would incinerate him, but that couldn't happen, could it? That magician had told him that he would live with new people. The magician had made him promise to do things in the future. He couldn't live with those people or do those things if he were dead. But that magician had said he could bring back the dead... That he could bring back Fai... So if Yūi died here, would that magician just bring him back, too?

As Yūi stepped into his new world, the light resolved into warmth, brilliant sunshine, blue skies dotted with fluffy white clouds, and green fields of crops. It was nothing like home. Paradise, it was paradise. It was so beautiful, so perfect and welcoming, he thought he might cry. He fell to his knees, overwhelmed.

The rift closed up behind him, sealing him into this new world, but it didn't matter. He had no desire to ever return to the cold death pit in Valeria.

But he was also lost. He looked about, seeking, seeking—what? He had no idea what he should do, where he should go. He was a stranger here. He probably didn't even speak the language. He looked down at his odd necklace and cradled the shiny gray pendant stone in his hand, hoping it would work as well as the magician had promised. He could feel magic radiating from it, although he couldn't really tell how it was made. He turned the pendant over and saw a symbol engraved on its flat back. It looked kind of like a bat. The magician had worn the same symbol, so it must be a sign of his magic. The magician had called the necklace a flebiti—? A flebotoob? Whatever. It was a charm, an amulet that would translate languages seamlessly, that was all Yūi really understood or cared about.

He thought about the magician's other promises. Only one was really, truly important to him. The magician had promised to bring Fai back to life. Fai had died because Yūi wanted to escape the pit, and so Yūi had to do anything, everything, to undo Fai's death. He had hated to give Fai to that scary magician, but he had had no choice.

He thought about the promises the magician had extracted from him, in return for Fai's new life. They were so terrible. Yūi knew he was a very, very bad person. He and Fai had killed everyone in Valeria, just by living. That was why they had been condemned. Then he had killed Fai, just by wishing to leave his prison.

But it wasn't fair! It wasn't, it wasn't! Why was it his fault he'd been born a twin? Why was it his fault that twins brought misfortune?

His father, his mother, their deaths...just because he and Fai were twins... Tears pricked Yūi's eyes, and he beat the grass with a small, bony fist. "It's no fair!" he screamed. "Life's no fair!"

None of that was his choice, nor Fai's, and yet they had both been punished as though they had done it all deliberately!

A dam burst inside, a blockage that had been inside him all his life but now was gone, and all his fear and horror and rage and despair and grief and hopelessness rushed out in an unstoppable tsunami, full of broken debris and old, forgotten dreams. It crushed him under wave after wave after relentless wave of snarled, white-hot emotions. He let out a long scream, and then rolled erratically on the warm, green earth, shrieking and kicking and flailing his fists. After a few minutes, his weak body became exhausted, and the tantrum passed. Feeling numb inside, Yūi lay on his back, staring up at a particularly puffy, cheerful looking cloud.

Slowly, he caught his breath. Slowly, in jagged fits and starts, his mind started to work again.

He considered the cloud, and thought about life.

For him, life itself had always been bad. Life had never been fair to him and Fai. It had always been a horror to be endured, as pain piled upon pain. He had resorted to hiding inside himself, so people wouldn't see him cry, so they wouldn't laugh at his weakness. He had learned to keep a bland expression as he accepted their whispers, their fear, their blame and their abuse. He and Fai had always sidled along walls, unobtrusive, out of the way, on the edges of a life that others took for granted. That had just been how things were. He knew he and Fai had deserved all the pain and scorn. Twins were bad. Twins brought evil. Royal twins brought evil to the entire country. Everything was his and Fai's fault, so it was only right that they had been shunned and punished.

But now things had changed. Yūi still didn't know if the changes would be for the better, or for the worse. This world was so beautiful, so very beautiful. He wanted to believe that now his life would get better. He hoped it would—oh, how he hoped! But Valeria's royal court had been beautiful, too, just in a different way. What if this place's beauty and warmth disguised horror and terror and more misery?

That scary, grownup magician was part of the new changes. He had made Yūi promise to do horrible things, true, but he had sent Yūi here, to this place of green warmth and soft smells and growing things. Did that mean the magician was really a good person? He had said he would bring Fai back to life in exchange for those bad promises, and Yūi understood enough to know that nothing was ever free. You had to pay for what you wanted, and if you had no money, you had to trade.

Yūi knew he had agreed to trade evil for good.

That hardly seemed fair. But life wasn't fair.

Yūi was already bad enough, worthless enough. He and Fai had destroyed their home just by living. Why did Yūi have to do more evil just to bring about something good? Fai returning to life—that would be good, right? Yūi was doing a good thing by bringing Fai back to life, wasn't he? Yes, yes, that was it, of course, of course he was doing something good.

So no matter what the adults in Valeria had told him, he _could_ do good. Sometimes... Sometimes you had to do bad things in order to accomplish something good.

He thought that over. Wasn't that what the ruler of Valeria had done, when he had sent Yūi and Fai to the prison pit? He had said it was so the country could become happy again. By sending the royal twins into eternal punishment, he could help the country survive. So the ruler had tried to create good out of evil, just like Yūi planned to do.

Yūi tried very hard not think about how that scheme had turned out, how the country had died anyway, and how the ruler had killed himself while condemning the twins yet again.

It was all because he and Fai were twins.

It would be different for him, though. It would be different in this new world. Here, he had no twin. Fai was...Fai was...gone. There was only Yūi. Things would be different.

And good intentions must make bad actions okay, as long as the good really came. Sure, the ruler had failed, but that was because the twins' bad magic couldn't be overcome. The ruler had tried to do good. He had done those bad things to do good for the country.

So Yūi's own plans must be okay. They must. Besides, he really wanted Fai back. That was all that mattered, and the bad things he would do to bring Fai back to life were just like the bad things the ruler had done in his attempt to restore Valeria to prosperity.

Yūi would succeed where the ruler had failed. But even as he made that decision, another thought, a horrible thought, struck him like lightning. If Fai came back to life—if he and Fai were together again... Wouldn't that mean he and Fai would be twins again? Would twins destroy this world, like they had destroyed Valeria?

Yūi almost fell into despondency, but then memory teased him, like the tip of a feather against his inner skin, an itch that could not be scratched, a tickle that could not be ignored. It grew stronger, more insistent.

As it burst into glorious life in his head, the memory told him that he was wrong! He was wrong!

With that explosion of memory, Yūi heard again a very important thing the scary magician had told him. The magician had said that Valeria's curses had no power here, in this brand new world. That the misfortune of twins was something that Valeria itself had decided. Breathless, Yūi felt himself teetering on the edge of some great cliff, on the brink of freefall...

The magician's words, they meant, they meant...

They meant... Yūi gasped out a soft "Oh!" and sat up as the full realization hit him. Those words meant that twins weren't always bad! There were places where twins didn't destroy everything just by living! And this place... this was one of those places! He was free! He could have Fai back, and they could be twins again, and they could live happily ever after in the wonderful, beautiful, amazing world.

Oh, that blessed magician! He really was good! He really had made things better!

Yūi could do it. He could really do it. He could get Fai back. That was right. That was proper. That was how life worked. Unfairness could be balanced. Bad things could be turned to good. He would do it. He would. And it would be good.

"It will be real good," Yūi said aloud.

Filled with purpose and determination, Yūi stood up. He gazed up at the fluffy cloud, and spread his arms wide, and said to the absent magician, "Thank you, wherever you are! Oh, thank you! I will do everything you want! I promise, I'll be exactly what you want me to be! And when Fai comes back, we will always thank you and remember you forever and ever!"

He twirled, around and around and around, feeling real happiness.

"Anthony!" a woman's voice called, startling him. "Anthony! Where are you? Anthony!"

Yūi stopped spinning and faced the direction from which that voice had come. A short distance away, he saw a woman with light brown hair. She wore a knee-length dress of a flimsy, tan-colored fabric and comfortable looking, flat leather shoes. She called for Anthony again. She sounded really worried.

With a start, Yūi recalled that now _he_ was Anthony, and that the woman was calling for him. She must be "Mom." She was Anthony's—his—mother. He took a few uncertain steps toward her.

"Anthony! There you are!" She ran to join him, dropped to her knees, and caught him in a soft embrace. "Anthony, why did you run off? We've been so worried."

"I'm s-sorry, M-M-Mom," Yūi stammered, unsure how to respond to such a warm welcome.

"Mom? Oh, Anthony, are you still having those troubles?" She held him at arm's length and gave him a searching look.

What troubles? Yūi realized that this woman wasn't "Mom," but then, who was she? Up close, he could see that her tan dress was dotted with dainty blue flowers, and that her short hair was faded, with flecks of gray among the curling brown strands. She had nice brown eyes, so soft and warm, and the corners crinkled when she smiled at him.

"Oh, poor Anthony, you're still confused," she said. "Poor baby. That sometimes happens with such bad fevers, and you've only just gotten better. The doctor said that your memory might be affected. You shouldn't have run off, you know. You should still be in bed."

"Uh—"

"Poor darling, I'm Aunt Amy," the woman told him with gentle and sad compassion. She pressed a firm hand against his forehead. "At least the fever hasn't come back. I was afraid it might, what with your crazy shenanigans!"

"Aunt Amy," Yūi repeated, memorizing the name.

"Oh, dear, where did you find this horrible rag? It looks like some old, cast-off tee shirt from one of the farmhands." She fingered his prisoner's tunic, frowning. "Your feet and legs are bare! Oh, Anthony, let's get you inside and cleaned up. You really aren't as well as you think you are, not if you're running around outside like this!"

Before Yūi could utter another word, Aunt Amy scooped him up and carried him over a hill to a dirt road. In the distance, he saw a wooden farmhouse with a large porch, and a barn, and pigs in a pen, and cows in a fenced field, and chickens scratching at the dirt. Another woman ran forward, calling tearfully.

"He's here!" Aunt Amy called back. "He's fine!" She looked down at him. "Your mom has been so worried since you ran off. Please don't do it again."

"I won't. I promise." Yūi snuggled into Aunt Amy's embrace. For the first time in his life, he felt that someone other than Fai loved him. He knew that these people really loved Anthony, not him, but it felt so real, so good. And now he was Anthony, he was, and they would love him. They would really love him.

Oh, it was such a good day.


	5. Chapter 5

Many pleasant days passed as Yūi settled into his new home. He met his new family, finally getting to correctly identify "Mom" and "Dad." He was bathed, groomed, fussed over. He spent the first day and night in a warm, comfortable bed. When the doctor pronounced him well enough to be up, he encountered a wide variety of friends, relatives, and pets, all come to say hello and check up on him.

What a nice community this was! What a change from Valeria!

Everyone wanted to feed him. The doctor said he was too thin, and it was true. His long incarceration had left him almost skeletal, with sickly flesh and hollowed cheeks and eyes. These physical symptoms were blamed on his recent fever—or rather, on Anthony's fever. No one found his dilapidated physical condition surprising in light of that illness.

Anthony must have been very, very sick before he had died.

Yūi happily ate the delicious tomato soup and saltine crackers that the doctor said he could have. He anticipated even better food in a few days. The doctor said he should get stronger quickly, now that the fever was gone.

While Yūi had not had this fever, he knew that rest and good food would strengthen him. He cooperated with all the medical orders, and basked in the way his new family cosseted him.

He still didn't remember the names of all the new people in his life. He knew Mom and Dad, and Aunt Amy, and Mister and Missus Hollis, but he still had trouble with so many others. Everyone accepted his confusion with gentle patience. The doctor had warned them that fevers could cause memory loss, and that it might be a while before he fully recovered.

Soon, he was eating a real dinner—fried chicken, mashed potatoes with gravy, green beans, biscuits. He had never seen any of that kind of food before, but it smelled heavenly and after just one taste he literally had to stop himself from gobbling it all down.

It had been so very long since he'd had such delicious food...

He ate with relish, and when he was done with the main meal, there was another delight waiting for him: carrot cake with cream cheese frosting.

"I know it's your favorite," Mom said.

Yūi felt a little bad inside, because it was Anthony's favorite, not his, but now he was Anthony, so he knew he shouldn't feel bad about anything.

Anthony had had good taste. The cake was the most heavenly thing Yūi had ever eaten. He consumed two big pieces, while the adults smiled indulgently. They told him they were so glad he was eating normally again. A growing boy needed to eat well.

He put healthy weight back on quickly, and his color improved. He was allowed to dress, and on this farm he wore heavy, denim slacks they called blue jeans, and a variety of colorful shirts, and lace-up shoes called "sneakers." That name was really strange. The rubber soles of the shoes squeaked on the clean, linoleum floors, announcing his presence. So they weren't really for sneaking. But they were comfortable and he could run really fast in them.

Sometimes, Aunt Amy sat on the front porch in a rocking chair. She would hold him in her lap while she rocked and sang little country songs. It made him uncomfortable to hear her sing. Back in Valeria, other children had made up taunting songs, which they sang at Yūi and Fai whenever there were no grownups around. Not that Yūi believed the grownups had cared.

As a result, he didn't like singing. Any singing. He liked instrumental music, but not singing.

Yūi didn't have the heart to tell Aunt Amy that he didn't like to hear her singing. She didn't mean to make him unhappy. She thought it was nice. He would just cuddle with her, reveling in the warmth of human contact, and try to bury the bad memories. Perhaps someday he would get over his dislike of singing.

But really, Aunt Amy was very nice to him.

Besides, here in Peaksville, the other children wanted to play with him! He had two friends his own age already. A brother and sister, Mister and Missus Fredricks' children. They had come to visit him while he had still been "sick," and after he was better they all ran about the farm with him, hitting balls with a baseball bat, or playing tag or hide and go seek.

He often wished Fai could be here. Fai would love this. Most of the time, Yūi did his best not to think about Fai and the past. But at night, tucked up in his warm bed, Yūi would sometimes cry for Fai, for all the injustice they had endured, for bad memories. He would remind himself that Fai wasn't really gone forever. Someday, Fai would come back. Yūi just had to be patient and complete his special mission. The crying fits would pass, and he would fall asleep, and during the day he never showed his new family any tears.

Anthony wouldn't have been crying about things like that. Anthony didn't have a dead brother or an unhappy past. Anthony had never brought tragedy and misfortune to those around him. Anthony was loved and cherished.

Yūi was Anthony. Anthony was Yūi.

Yūi decided, when everything was done, and that nice magician brought Fai back to life, Fai and Yūi would both live here. They would live happily with Mom and Dad and Aunt Amy, with all the nice neighbors, and the nice animals on the farm.

Peaksville was a very pleasant place to live, far more pleasant than his old home, but Yūi didn't like everything about it. A lot of things were very strange. Like electricity. It made things work, just like magic, but it wasn't magic. He didn't understand it, and he didn't like it.

The oven ran on electricity. It was easy for Mom to use for cooking. She didn't need to add wood to a fire, there were no ashes to clean up, and it didn't make a sooty mess on the walls and ceiling. But food cooked in the electric oven just didn't taste quite right. Like roasted meat. Mom's roasts didn't have the nice smoky flavor that Yūi expected. He missed that.

Then there was the telephone. It let non-magicians talk over a distance. Mom and Dad would yack, yack, yack on it for a long time, and when they were using that device, they ignored their son, or told him to go outside to play. He sometimes thought they liked that telephone better than him.

And when the grownups weren't chattering on the telephone, the radio or television would do the chattering for them.

Yūi had mixed feelings about the television and the radio. Once, he had seen a neat show on the television about monsters called dinosaurs. He had watched the whole thing, utterly fascinated by Tyrannosaurus Rex and Triceratops and other great, thunderous lizard-beasts. Those monsters—dinosaurs—had lived a long time ago, but now they were all gone. Dad said they had become extinct, which meant they had died out. Yūi thought that was sad. He wanted to see a real dinosaur.

He would have loved to create—no, he would have loved to transform himself into a Tyrannosaurus Rex and go trampling and ravaging everyone who had despised him in Valeria. Nobody would have taunted him and Fai then! He fantasized about being back in Valeria, and becoming a Tyrannosaurus Rex right in the middle of the throne room. Everyone in Valeria would have to like him! If they didn't like him, he'd trample them and eat them. He'd use his enormous, razor-sharp teeth to tear them all limb from limb. That would show them!

But back when he'd lived in Valeria, he'd never even heard of dinosaurs. He'd never know about them now, either, but for television.

Most shows on the television weren't that interesting, though. The adults only liked to watch the news, or talky shows, or entertainment shows on Saturday night. Those shows often included comedy, which was good, and singing, which set Yūi's teeth on edge. But most of the adult shows were dull, dull, dull.

It was the same with the radio. Music, singing, talky theater, and news.

Dad said that none of those things came from Peaksville. He said everything, the electricity, the radio and television waves, all came from outside. Radio and television were created in big cities. Electricity was generated by dams or by burning coal, natural gas, or other substances, and it was sent over the power lines that were strung high up. Birds liked to sit on those ugly black lines. Dad said that the telephone also used lines. He pointed out the difference, but to Yūi they all looked alike. Ugly. They marred the view of the pretty blue sky.

Yūi wasn't crazy about automobiles or trucks, either. He liked bicycles. He had learned to ride his bicycle, and thought it pretty fun. Dad had wondered how little Anthony could have forgotten how to ride his bicycle, muttering, "It must be some inner ear or balance problem from that danged fever." Dad had then admonished him, "You be careful, now, Anthony. Don't fall off!"

Anthony never fell off a bicycle, and Yūi was Anthony, and Anthony loved his bicycle, so Yūi did, too.

But he didn't love automobiles or trucks. They were noisy and smelly. They got people to places faster than bicycles, so they were useful, but they also led to the outside world.

He'd heard about trains, and they sounded even worse than automobiles. Fortunately, the nearest train station was in the next town, so he didn't have to contend with them.

Sometimes, he just wanted to isolate Peaksville from the outside world. He wanted to put a stop to electricity, television, and radio. He wanted to make it so automobiles and other clunky machines didn't work. He was sure that everyone would see how wonderful life was without those distractions. They would see that food tasted better, and how they didn't need the incessant gabble from the telephone, radio, and television. The air would smell better if there were no automobile exhaust. Everything would be so much better. He and his family and friends could all play together and be happy forever.


	6. Chapter 6

One sunny afternoon, Yūi decided to explore beyond the farm and its dirt road. Anthony had known how to get around the farms and woods of Peaksville, and Yūi was Anthony was Yūi. He knew his way around well enough that he didn't fear getting lost, and even though he knew he was supposed to stay close to home, he was curious. He walked along the road, passing by Dad's cornfield, and eventually he came to another field. This one was all green grass and solitude, and it was enclosed within a simple picket fence. Inside, various markers of stone or wood dotted the landscape. Many were just stone rectangles set into the ground, but there were also quite a few upright ones shaped like rounded slabs or the cross on top of the church. He also saw some statues of pretty people with wings—angels, he thought. They were part of Anthony's religion. Yūi had seen pictures of them in the church.

He found the place irresistible. He followed its siren call, walking through the unlocked gates, strolling aimlessly on paths through the lawn. Here and there, flowers were laid before the odd markers. He took a closer look, and saw a name inscribed in a stone cross, and dates, and the words "In Loving Memory."

Oh.

In shock, he stumbled back. This was a cemetery! There were dead people buried here! He just hadn't recognized it because cemeteries weren't this green and pretty back in Valeria. With a sudden disconnect, Anthony was not Yūi was not Anthony. Anthony would have known about the cemetery. But Yūi wasn't Anthony from Peaksville. Yūi was Yūi.

The monuments to the dead were different in Valeria, and the ground there was often frozen and covered with snow. No one in Valeria would have wasted expensive flowers on a grave. But here, in Peaksville, flowers were common. They bloomed in profusion in the warm days of summer.

Anthony would have known that people in Peaksville put flowers on graves. Yūi knew, now, too. His world solidified again. He was Anthony. Yūi was Anthony, and Anthony was Yūi, and Peaksville was his home, with Mom and Dad and Aunt Amy, and everything about that was right.

He decided to leave the cemetery, go somewhere less disturbing, but he had been wandering without paying attention. He was lost. He wasn't afraid, though. The sun was shining brightly, and the birds were chirping, and insects flitted about. It was a very nice place, but he really shouldn't be here.

An intelligent child, he decided to find the fence, then follow the fence line back to the gate. That would lead him out, back to the road. Nodding to himself, he started walking.

He found the fence, but it was in a location he hadn't seen before. The grass was shaded by overhanging branches from large trees just outside the fence, so that it was thinner and patchier than in the sunnier areas of the cemetery. He thought he had gone clear to the back. Even here, he saw graves.

One in particular caught his eye. It seemed so sad and lonely, its headstone pressed up against the fence, half hidden by scraggly bushes, with no flowers or other remembrances. On impulse, he walked over to it. He didn't know why, but he felt compelled to see it, to acknowledge the person who rested there.

That feeling was very strange, but he didn't fight it. He knelt down and read the inscription on the headstone.

Anthony Fremont.

"Oh no," Yūi gasped, falling backwards on his behind. "Oh, oh, oh."

His comfortable world again fractured and became alien.

Yūi choked and sputtered and even cried for a few minutes. This was a cruel, cruel reminder of reality. He'd gotten so caught up in his new life he'd almost forgotten his purpose. The people he was living with weren't really his family, and his friends… They weren't really his. They were Anthony's friends, not Yūi's.

And Fai— He often thought of Fai, but not like he was dead. Not anymore. These days, Yūi merely thought of Fai as temporarily misplaced. But Fai was dead, just like Anthony, and Yūi had a mission, and he thought he must be failing at it. That was why this cruel reminder had been thrust before him.

Yūi lifted a hand to the necklace he always wore hidden under his shirt. He touched the gray pendant that allowed him to understand the speech of Peaksville. His fingers tingled a little when they brushed the cool stone. The pendant was magic. It had been created by the magician who had promised to resurrect Fai.

Was the magician watching him? Had the magician been displeased, and sent Yūi to this untended grave to remind him of his duty?

The magician had said that no one would remember that Anthony had died, and that Yūi would replace that dead child. Wasn't that what Yūi had been doing? But he must not be doing it right.

What was he missing?

He dropped his hand from his throat, sat up straight, and wiped away his tears. Sniffling, he told the grave, "I'm sorry, but I'm you now. I will be you for a long time. You'll have to stay forgotten." Then he looked up. The blue sky gleamed through the leafy branches. "I will do this right," he told the magician that he felt sure was watching him. "I promised. I know I have to succeed in my mission in order to get Fai back. See, I've replaced Anthony. Everyone thinks I'm him. Sometimes I think I'm him, too. I'm sure I'm doing that right. But what else do I need to do? Please, please, tell me what I'm doing wrong. I really don't know."

There was no answer. No rift split space-time apart; no rough, deep voice instructed him. The magician did not appear.

Yūi wondered if he was imagining things, if he had only come to this spot by coincidence.

It seemed unlikely to his youthful mind.

Perhaps he hadn't become Anthony as completely as the magician had wanted. He answered naturally to the name Anthony, and sometimes he really was Anthony, but he also thought of himself as Yūi. He was still two, when he should be one. He'd have to work on that. He had to become Anthony as much as possible. But he hadn't been in his new home very long yet. Surely, it took longer than a couple of months to become a whole new person. Right?

He wished it were easy. He wished he were already Anthony. That would fix all his problems.

As he ruminated, a big, brown and black horsefly buzzed around his head then lighted upon his hand. A sharp jolt of pain made him yank his hand away. "Ow!" he screeched. "You stupid bug!" The mean bug had bit him! A tiny droplet of blood welled up from the bite wound. The horsefly, undeterred, buzzed in closer. He swatted violently at the insect, but it dived at him for another bite.

"No, you rotten bug!" Yūi yelled in rage, flailing wildly. He'd had enough! Enough! His old world had hated him, and now his new life was endangered! Even the insects were against him! He shrieked out all his anger and terror at the horsefly, "You're bad! Bad! It's all your fault! Just die! Die!"

Mid dive, the horsefly exploded with a tiny spurt of Yūi's blood and gross bug parts. Its fragmented remains dropped into the grass.

Yūi stared at the dead bug pieces with wide eyes and shocked comprehension. His lips parted, but no sound came out.

He suddenly understood. He understood everything.

Magic. That was what he was doing wrong.

He had forgotten, absorbed in his happy days in this lovely, wonderful world, and that had been stupid of him. Of course! He possessed magic. He would need magic to help find the memory feathers when they fell, otherwise he'd never get them. He would need magic to travel to other worlds on his mission.

He and Fai both had possessed powerful magic, or so the important people in Valeria had claimed. The rulers had feared that one day the twins would become so powerful that they could usurp the throne and take over the whole country.

Yūi really didn't know. He and Fai had never been allowed to use magic, and then they had been banished to the pit before he could learn anything about his power. That prison had nullified all magic, so he had been utterly powerless there.

But now... He'd thought he was free before, but this was even better! He could use his magic here without fear, without guilt! He could learn, and practice, and someday he would do amazing things.

He could make Peaksville even better than it was already! He could do everything he'd dreamed about, like getting rid of electricity and automobiles and television! Everyone would see how great it would be, and love him so much for making their lives better!

But how did his magic work?

He thought about that. His bug bite itched, and he scratched it absently. Then he stopped and stared at the reddened spot on his hand.

He had gotten really scared, and really angry at the horsefly, and wished it would just die. At that moment of frustration, fear, and anger, he had wished it would die with all his might. And it had died, just like that.

Was that how magic worked? Did he just have to wish hard enough?

But he'd wished for a better life really, really hard back in Valeria, and things there had only gotten worse and worse...

Oh, wait! That wish had come true also! He did have a better life now! It had just taken longer than killing a bug. Had he done it all himself, changed his life, just by wishing? Had it been his own magic all along?

Yūi knew wishes were powerful and dangerous things. His wish to escape the prison pit had caused Fai's death, so he knew he had to be very, very careful about wishing. That should have given him pause, he knew, but instead it only made him want to try harder to get it right. He could learn to wish really, really hard, and he would be careful not to do anything bad by accident.

The dead bug lay motionless, and it was ugly. He was still mad at it. He wanted to get rid of it.

He'd wished for a lot of vague things in the past, and he didn't think those things had come true. Maybe he just needed a specific goal in mind, at least while he was learning. Getting a better life, escaping the prison pit, killing a bug—those things were all concrete goals that he had wanted very, very much. They weren't vague and hard to define, like generic happiness or pleasure. Lots of things could make one happy, or be pleasurable. Maybe he just needed to be specific, and to focus really hard. Maybe that was how wish-magic worked.

He stared at the bug bits with his most intense concentration, and even pointed at it. "Go away," he told the dead bug. "Go away, bad bug."

Something clicked, deep in his soul, and he felt a rush of warm energy. The bug pieces vanished.

Oh, this was so exciting! That time he had sensed his magic working! Now he knew what it felt like, and how to make that feeling come again. Yūi congratulated himself on learning to use his magic so fast. Why, in no time he'd be able to do anything he wanted. His family would be so proud of him!

He spent the rest of the day sitting on Anthony Fremont's grave and practicing his wish-magic. He practiced a lot on bugs, birds, and small animals like squirrels and snakes. Killing them wasn't bad, he reasoned. People wore leather and furs, and those were just skins from dead animals. People ate meat, and that was also just dead animals. Dad and some other men had killed a pig the other day, and preserved the meat so they could have pork and bacon, and last weekend Mom had wrung the neck of a chicken for the special Sunday meal. Beef meat was dead cow. He really liked eating meat. He'd always liked meat, and he'd eaten it in Valeria. He'd worn furs and leather, too. Eating meat was good, and wearing furs and leather was good, so killing animals must be good.

He discovered he could not only kill the animals, but also transform them. He could give them extra legs and tails, and even heads. He gave a snake two heads and two tails, and giggled at his creation's silly antics. Two-headed snakes were funny.

Then he realized what he was doing and pressed both his hands to his mouth. Oh, had that been a laugh? He hadn't smiled or laughed in a long, long time. Not since before he and Fai had been in the pit. Not even when they'd lived in Valeria's royal court. Laughing there, with all those hostile people, would have brought unwanted attention to the twins, so they had been careful not to laugh. They had gotten so unhappy, and anyway, with all the blame and complaints leveled at them, there hadn't been much reason for smiles or laughter.

Then in the pit, their sadness had only gotten worse.

But here in Peaksville... Yūi was really happy here, and he hadn't even thought about how he'd changed. He got sad when he thought of Fai, but Fai wasn't around. He couldn't talk about Fai anymore, nor even see him. He had no real reminders of his old life, just bad memories that he tried to bury. No one in Peaksville knew anything about his real past, or that he'd had a twin brother. He had no one to talk with about all those things, and so he never talked about them. He didn't even think of them. Besides, thinking about who he really was would keep him from being Anthony. That would be bad. He had to be Anthony.

Why was he smiling and laughing now, though? He was sure he hadn't before. Not when the Fredricks' children played with him; not when Aunt Amy held him in her lap, and they rocked in her rocking chair on the porch. Not even when he had first tasted good tomato soup.

He loved all those things, and they made him happy. They were good, but he knew he hadn't smiled before. People had often commented on it, and then they just said he must still be tired from his long illness. It was due to the fever, they said. Anthony will be normal again soon, they said.

And Yūi was Anthony was Yūi was Anthony.

He felt a nice, warm glow inside. It crept up into his brain, making his head spin. He didn't like the dizzy feeling, but it faded quickly and he forgot about it in his joy and relief. He knew what to do now, and life could go back to normal. Anthony could live with Mom and Dad and Aunt Amy, and play with the Fredricks' kids, and eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for lunch.

The two-headed snake jerked and coiled about itself. Anthony thought it couldn't make up its mind about which way to go. He corrected himself: Minds, not mind. Two heads meant two minds. Just like him. He was two in one, just like the snake. He giggled again.

Why, it must be magic that was making him smile and laugh! He and Fai had never used their magic in Valeria, and they hadn't been happy there. But now he was free, free to be whatever he wanted, and free to use magic whenever and however he wanted. None of the nasty grownups in Valeria could stop him anymore. They were all dead.

Yes, magic was good! Using magic was good! The things he could do with magic made him so happy.

However, the snake was starting to bore him. There was only so much a snake could do, and even one with two heads and two tails couldn't stay interesting forever. So Anthony did with the snake what he'd done will all the other animals he had killed or transformed.

He made it go away.

He was so proud of himself. He was learning to use his magic so well! He didn't know where the animals went when he made them go away, but it didn't matter as long as they didn't come back.

The rumblings of hunger surprised him. He'd been practicing so long that he'd lost track of time. Oh, he was going to get into trouble! Mom and Dad would be mad that he'd been away all afternoon! But he knew they wouldn't stay mad long, not when he showed them his smiles. They'd missed his smiles.

He could show them his new talents, too! He'd gotten real good at his magic in just this one afternoon. How much better he would get with even more practice! Oh, he couldn't wait to get home!

His stomach growled again.

Anthony looked around, and realized he had never left the cemetery. He'd never even found the way out, but he remembered his original plan to follow the fence line to the gate. That worked perfectly, and in no time he was on the dirt road, running home.

He was so excited, and he had so much to show his family!

Besides that, he didn't want to miss dinner!


	7. Chapter 7

In his magic mirror, Fei Wang Reed observed the Valerian prison pit. The place was now empty and broken. The tower had fallen, and the high stone walls were beginning to crumble. Cold winds swept through, blowing the falling snow, mournful howls rising and falling with each gust. The innumerable corpses of dead Valerian citizens gave mute testimony to the obscenity and madness that had befallen their country. They remained in the snow, stark and stiff, faces both twisted and calm, depending upon how they had died. With the breaking of the tower and the walls, the enchantments that held the dead forms static and unchanging had faded away. At long last, the bodies had begun to decompose.

It would happen slowly. The place was cold enough to inhibit any rapid forms of rot, but one day the corpses would be gone. Insects, vermin, and other animals would soon infest the pit, and do their share of scavenging dead meat. The bones would be scattered, the walls would eventually fall in, and the last remnants of Valeria would be lost to the cautionary legends whispered in the surrounding countries. But at present, nothing living stirred.

Near the base of the fallen tower lay a large, frozen splotch of crimson. Glittering ice crystals had frozen out of the blood, creating macabrely fascinating patterns of light and dark red. Around it were smaller spots, splatter marks from the impact that had created them.

The stage was set for the next act of the drama, the next phase of Fei Wang Reed's careful redesign of his plans.

"Any moment now," he gloated, leaning forward in his great throne and watching the mirror with anticipation. He knew the place only looked lifeless. Looks were deceiving. Deception was deadly.

This was going to be fun.

The wind moaned, crying as though it despaired of what would soon transpire.

Fei Wang Reed didn't have long to wait. Swirling trans-dimensional magic scintillated like a rainbow in the cold, dead pit. A regal man with long, black hair materialized in the midst of fading sparkles. The wizard king had arrived.

Fei Wang Reed snickered. "Right on schedule," he sneered at the image on his mirror. "You are so predictable, King Ashura. It's a shame my original plan didn't work out."

The king looked around, and even walked about the broken tower, stepping carefully among the corpses. His expression grew more and more confused. He stopped at the frozen pool of blood and gazed down at it, his brows knitting. He blinked, looked up and around again, his movements becoming a little agitated.

"Seeking the urchins, are you?" Fei Wang Reed told his oblivious prey, relishing his triumph and the king's coming downfall. "Your information is outdated. Neither waif is there anymore. Not the dead one, and certainly not the live one. Your dreams haven't kept you abreast of current events, have they?" He leaned back in his throne, and his lips turned up in a wolfish grin, showing teeth. "You always were a poor excuse for a seer. You never saw far or widely enough, and what you did see blinded you to the greater consequences. That flaw is why you would have been so easy to use. And it's why you are so easy to remove from the game."

The wizard king, of course, didn't hear any of Fei Wang Reed's disdainful words. For a moment, Fei Wang Reed was sorry for that. It would have been sweet to reveal his existence, to gloat about his victory, to have his contemptuous laughter echo in the doomed man's ears as the sharp-toothed jaws of the trap closed and cut him to pieces.

At that thought, Fei Wang Reed became impatient for bloodshed. As though sensing his lust for mayhem, even across worlds, his newly created army of monsters and blank-faced soldiers burst from the crevasses and corners of broken stone in the pit.

He had planned this ambush well. King Ashura could not be allowed to live. As long as the wizard king breathed, he would continue to seek Fei Wang Reed's chosen pawn, the boy-magician. Ashura was consumed by what Fei Wang Reed scornfully termed "offspring issues," a desperate and deep-seated need for a child.

From what Fei Wang Reed had determined, other incarnations of Ashura in different worlds also suffered from "offspring issues." They all became obsessed and were driven to irrational extremes. This version of Ashura was no different from his counterparts; he would not let things rest, would not accept the _fait accompli_. The king's visions had shown him the child he was destined to raise, and he would be bound by those visions until the end of his days. With any other discarded tool, this wouldn't have bothered Fei Wang Reed too much, but there was always a chance that Ashura might succeed in his quest to find dear, sweet Anthony. The king was only a weak dreamseer, but nonetheless he did glimpse the future. His dreams might show him Anthony's location.

And if the two came together, Fei Wang Reed knew his plans would again be jeopardized. That could not be permitted.

So King Ashura had to die.

Ashura was a powerful wizard and a skilled warrior. He defended himself with great vigor and valor, but the forces arrayed against him were overwhelming. Fei Wang Reed had left nothing to chance. Monsters with talons, razor sharp teeth, and great, spiderlike limbs; flying horrors with leathery wings and screeching cries; almost-human soldiers armed with wicked blades—all went after the king at once. They gave him no time or opportunity to cast any spells for escape; he could only use hastily summoned attack magic.

Even outnumbered and accosted from all sides, Ashura managed to destroy near a third of his adversaries before a horrifically fanged abomination got through his defenses and slashed him from behind. Despite the bleeding gashes, he turned almost gracefully, shooting mystic flames at the offending monster and incinerating it. Yet he was tiring, losing speed and agility as he bled, and his attention was divided as three flying bat-things swooped at him. At that moment of distraction, a soldier lunged forward with a sword. The blade slid easily into the king's abdomen.

Ashura gasped in shock and pain. The soldier sliced sideways and then yanked his sword free. Blood spurted, and loops of slimy, red-streaked guts slipped out of the gaping, brutal laceration. Mortally wounded, Ashura fell to his knees.

In his new weakness, the legions of monsters and soldiers swarmed over him, engulfing him in a seething, squirming mound of grotesque bodies, flailing limbs, and slashing blades. Frenzied, smacking noises rose from the mass of dark flesh and yellow fangs. A single scream rang over the carnage, but it cut off abruptly.

The mound of monsters and soldiers heaved. Bones, organs, and slices of flesh were tossed carelessly skyward, snapped up by the flying creatures. One soldier stepped away from the frenzy, a single, twitching hand speared upon his bloodied sword. Another emerged bearing a booted foot, and another with a scrap of fine, elegantly decorated—if bloody—cloth. Trophies. Ashura's shredded remains provided the spoils of war for the almost-men, and a grisly feast for the monsters.

Fei Wang Reed smiled with satisfaction. Not only was the wizard king no longer a threat, but the new army had also proven successful. These creations were not as flawed as earlier versions had been. They had performed exceptionally well. He would use them again, soon. He had many places he wished to deploy them.

The ugly heap of snarling flesh shrank as the soldiers left it, but the fury of the monsters continued, unabated and wild. A dark, round object sailed through the air. It hit the ground with an ignoble thump and rolled with an irregular, lopsided motion. Blood streamed from it, splattering crimson droplets in a speckled trail, and black hair dragged in the dirt and snow.

Ah, Ashura's head. Naked and bleeding, shorn of its royal diadem and its body, it was a pathetic sight. Fei Wang Reed couldn't contain himself, and laughed aloud. "And so it ends for you, he who would dare to tame my little beast," he jeered, his voice dripping with scorn. "It was quite an exciting battle, though. You put up an excellent fight," he added with mock admiration.

Ironically, the king's decapitated head came to rest atop the frozen, crystalline pool of the dead twin's blood. Hot crimson liquid seeped from the raw flesh and dangling, stringy veins at the base of the severed neck. Ashura's blood steamed as it met the icy gore beneath, melting and mingling with it. White gleamed through red streaks, where fractured vertebrae had been exposed. Ashura's features were twisted into a grimace of agony, but his golden eyes stayed open, blank and unblinking. They would remain locked on eternity until the crows came and pecked them out.

How fitting, Fei Wang Reed thought, that Ashura's head had settled in that particular spot, the place Anthony's twin had met his own fate. They would freeze together, the dead king's gory head and the dead twin's blood. They would soon become inseparable, a lumpy amalgam of frozen blood and tissue. Both had wanted to save the child who had become Anthony, and now they had united in their common fate, united in death.

They would rot together, soon to be as forgotten as the rest of that lost country.

No, Fei Wang Reed corrected himself, they would be even more forgotten than dead Valeria. No legends would ever arise concerning the fate of a foreign wizard king and a dead Valerian princeling. There had been no observers to spread any stories to the surrounding countries, and Ashura's own people, in another world entirely, would never know what had become of their missing monarch.

And that amused Fei Wang Reed, as well. The king and the twin deserved no better than to be forgotten and lost to time. It served them both right, he thought as he opened a space-time rift to bring his army home. He issued a magical command, and his minions obediently snapped to attention, the monsters abandoning their meal of raw meat, the soldiers forgetting their gruesome trophies. They retreated through the rift in an orderly, unhurried column. Fei Wang Reed found their instant obedience and their discipline even more satisfying than the king's violent death.

The recall of his troops accomplished, Fei Wang Reed lounged comfortably and admired the image of death and frozen union that he had inadvertently crafted. It was a work of art, really, the way flesh, blood, and bones were strewn among the Valerian corpses, and especially the way the king's head had joined with the last remnant of the dead Valerian prince. The wind had died away, and delicate snowflakes drifted down, veiling the atrocities in gossamer wisps of purest white. Fei Wang Reed allowed himself to take pleasure in that surreal scene for almost five whole minutes, and then he banished the vision, blanked his mirror, and left the room.

His thoughts became fully occupied with the next phases of his complex plans. He needed to inspect his troops, make any necessary repairs, and create replacements for the dead ones before he sent his army of nightmares out again.


	8. Chapter 8

It all went wrong.

Wrong, wrong, wrong.

Anthony had been so pleased, so proud. He'd gotten home, and everyone had greeted him, and Mom said that dinner would be on the table pretty soon.

He was so excited that he couldn't wait until after dinner. He told them about his magic powers right away. He told them about the animals he had practiced on, the squirrels and the birds, and especially about the two-headed, two-tailed snake he had made. But they didn't believe him.

"You shouldn't make up stories like that, son," Dad said in a stern voice. "You know better than to tell lies."

Aunt Amy came to his rescue. "He's just imaginative. He's always had a real good imagination, and you know how boys his age like to pretend about things."

"He's making up stories about torturing animals! It's not right! He shouldn't be fantasizing about things like that! My God, think about what that might lead to!"

"It's not a lie!" Anthony shouted. "I really can do magic! I can!"

"Be quiet, Anthony. I've half a mind to take my belt to you."

Anthony gasped and shrank back. Dad was going to hit him? Dad wanted to hurt him? Tears pricked at his eyes.

Mom knelt down beside him. "Anthony, it's okay, I understand that you like to play make-believe. Just...just find something else to pretend about, all right?"

"No, I'm not lying..." Anthony whispered, trembling. "It's real. It's really real." Mom put her arm around his shoulders and gave him a squeeze.

"Anthony..." Dad said darkly, warning clear in his tone.

Aunt Amy said, "You're scaring him."

"He'd better be scared."

"Lots of little boys do nasty things to bugs. It's a part of growing up. You know that. Kids grow out of it."

"He wasn't talking about insects, Amy. This is serious."

She tried again. "Maybe it's just an aftereffect from that fever. You should call the doctor back."

"No, Amy. This can't be cured with a few pills. Use your brain!"

Anthony didn't like the way Dad had snapped at Aunt Amy. He decided he needed to defend both her and himself. "I did start with bugs, just like Aunt Amy said," he proclaimed. "A horsefly bit me, and I made it blow up. Then I made it go away. That's when I learned how to use magic. I practiced on the other animals all afternoon."

Mom's face whitened. Her arm fell to her side, and she stood up slowly. Dad looked like he might explode. Even Aunt Amy seemed disturbed.

Dad took a deep breath, released it. "Anthony, you must not pretend such things. Don't even think about them."

"But I need to practice my magic!" Anthony protested.

"No! There is no such thing as magic! And even if there were, it's bad to hurt animals like that! It's bad to even imagine it. Don't ever think about it again!"

Anthony felt rage welling up inside him. He couldn't understand what was wrong. These people loved him. Why were they acting like this? Why didn't they believe him? Didn't they understand how good life would be now? They should be happy! He could use his magic to do more than make funny animals. He could do so many nice things for everyone, but they wouldn't listen!

"Fine!" He stamped his foot. "I'll show you." With righteous indignation and a little fear—he hadn't forgotten the threat of Dad's belt—he tromped out the front door and into the yard.

"Anthony!" Dad called after him. "Anthony, you get back here this instant!"

"No!" he yelled back. "I'll show you it's real! Then you'll believe me!"

He heard his family following him out of the house, but he didn't give them time to do or say anything more to him. He pointed to a chicken that was scratching in the dirt. "Have four legs, chicken. Have four legs!"

Bright energy surged inside him. An instant later, the chicken had four legs. The bird let out a series of hysterical squawks and stumbled about with frantic clumsiness, flapping its wings hard in the dry, summer air.

Anthony smiled. He had done that perfectly. It had been so easy. He really liked drumsticks, so a chicken with four legs seemed like a really great demonstration. They could eat it for the next Sunday dinner, and all of them could have a drumstick!

Beaming with pride, he turned to face his family. Now they would believe him. Now they would see what a good boy he was, and the good things his magic could do.

Mom made a terrible noise deep in her throat and turned away, shuddering. Aunt Amy covered her mouth with both hands.

Dad simply stood motionless. He stared at the four-legged chicken. His mouth worked, but no sound came out.

Anthony felt horribly disappointed with their reactions. "You believe me now, don't you?" he pleaded. He added hopefully, "Look at its four legs. We can each have a drumstick at Sunday dinner! Mom, you'll cook my chicken, won't you? It'll be real good! Drumsticks are the best!"

Mom's scream split his eardrums and shattered all his delusions. She started sobbing. Aunt Amy was breathing too hard, and her gaze stayed on the chicken, but she wrapped both her arms around Mom. Mom leaned against her, burying her face in Aunt Amy's shoulder. Aunt Amy shifted her eyes to Anthony. He felt that stare drill into him, and wanted to squirm.

"What did I do wrong?" he asked in a trembling voice. "Don't you see? I really can do magic, just like I said."

Dad jerked back to life, but like Aunt Amy, he kept his eyes on Anthony. "Both of you, go inside," Dad said to Aunt Amy and Mom.

The women made their way up the porch steps and into the house. Aunt Amy murmured something to Mom as they went, but Mom never stopped crying or shaking.

The door shut behind them. Neither Anthony nor Dad said anything. The chicken squawked and squawked, and in the barn a cow mooed. Anthony was frightened by his family's reaction to his magic. He didn't know what to do or say, so he just stood and stared at his father.

Dad slowly came forward. He knelt down on the ground before Anthony, and raised one hand as though to put it on his son's shoulder. He hesitated before making contact, and lowered his arm again.

Something about that aborted gesture made Anthony really sad. "Dad?" he said. "Dad, I didn't mean to do anything bad. I didn't. I thought it would be a good thing to have four drumsticks. I really did."

The chicken continued to squawk. It just wouldn't let up. It was really starting to bug him. Maybe he should wish it dead, to shut it up. That way Mom wouldn't have to wring its neck. He could even make its feathers go away, so Mom wouldn't have to pluck it. He could make it nice and ready to cook.

Dad took a deep breath. "Anthony," he said. "Anthony." His voice shook. He lowered his head and rubbed his eyes.

"Are you mad?" Anthony asked. "You were mad before. But you see, I wasn't lying. I really wasn't. Please don't be mad."

"Anthony," Dad said again. The chicken let out a series of particularly high-pitched squawks and flopped to one side. It didn't seem to know how to use its extra legs to balance. Feathers flew as it beat its wings against the dirt.

Anthony decided that the chicken had made enough noise. He pointed at it. "You're too noisy, chicken. Be dead."

The chicken dropped mid-squawk.

Dad gasped in horror.

Anthony said, "There, now the chicken won't be so noisy. I didn't want to kill it so soon, but it was really loud. We can have it for dinner on Sunday, right, Dad? I think I can wish its feathers and blood away to prepare it. We can put it in the refrigerator after I do that."

"Anthony," Dad said yet again, and this time he sounded really scared, and also like he might break into tears at any moment.

Anthony really didn't understand. "It's good to have four drumsticks, isn't it? It's good I made a four-legged chicken." Why was Dad so upset about a chicken? He and Mom killed them all the time. Chickens were for eggs and eating, and if you wanted to eat a chicken you had to kill it.

Dad shook his head so hard his hair flopped. "Anthony, it's horrible. I can't even look at it. Oh, Anthony, Anthony—" He choked.

Worried, Anthony patted his father's shoulder. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Don't be sad. I'll make it go away so you won't have to see it." He didn't want to do that. He wanted a nice, fried chicken dinner on Sunday, but Dad was so upset.

He could always make another four-legged chicken. He pointed at the bird. "Go away, chicken. Go away!"

He felt another rush of energy, and the chicken vanished.

Still on his knees, Dad gaped at the spot where the chicken had been. "Whe-whe-where did it go, son?" he stammered. "Where did you send it?"

Anthony shrugged. He had never thought about that before. It had never seemed important.

"Anthony?"

Anthony thought hard. He really didn't know where the chicken had gone. He looked out at the farm, at the wide expanse of green, growing stalks of corn. "I sent it to the cornfield," he blurted out. That was the first thing that had come into to his mind.

"The cornfield...?" Dad repeated. He turned his head toward the field. "It's really out there somewhere?"

"It's gone, Dad, so you don't have to look at it," Anthony said. Now that he had thought of it, the cornfield seemed like a good place to put things he wanted to go away. Just telling things to go away was so vague. Better to put them in graves in the cornfield. He'd do that from now on.

Dad blinked hard, several times. He still knelt in front of Anthony, but his posture became straight and rigid. The hands he placed on Anthony's shoulders were gentle, though. "Son, listen to me. Listen real hard."

"Yes, Dad. I'm listening."

"I want you to hear every word I say, do you understand?" His voice was very firm.

"Yes, Dad." Dad sounded so serious. It made Anthony nervous. But he never expected Dad's next words.

"Son, you must never, ever do that again."

Anthony felt his whole world drop out from under him. "Dad?"

"I mean it. You must never use this—this _magic_ again."

"No," Anthony whispered. "You don't really mean that, Dad."

"I do. You cannot ever, ever do those things again. No animal transformations, no cornfield, and no killing!"

"But we eat animals—"

"No!"

Anthony stared at him, unable to comprehend.

Dad exhaled. His fingers tightened on Anthony's shoulders. "Anthony, there's a right way and a wrong way to do things. Your...your magic...it goes against nature. It's wrong. It's _bad_, Anthony, it's very, very bad. You must promise me you won't use it again. Promise you won't ever use magic again."

"No, no, no," Anthony moaned. How could he give up magic? It was his birthright! It would help him save Fai! He had promised that magician that he would learn magic and complete his mission. How could his Dad make this terrible, unreasonable, _stupid_ demand?

The world fractured again, and Anthony became Yūi became Anthony became Yūi.

"Son, you must promise!" Dad was relentless, and afraid, and his fear hammered at Anthony and Yūi and Anthony and Yūi. "No one will understand. It will only get you in trouble. You'll do things you shouldn't, and...and... Don't you see I'm trying to protect you?"

"No! No, you're not! You're scared of me! I can see it!" Yūi screamed. It was just like Valeria. Everyone in Valeria had been afraid of him and Fai. Things here were turning out exactly the same. His family—Anthony's family—his family was afraid of him, and soon they would hate him, and then they would...they would send him to...to...

"Noooo!" Yūi shrieked at the top of his lungs. "You don't understand! You don't understand! I'm not bad! I'm not! I'm good! I'm good! _I'm Anthony! Anthony!_"

Dad scrambled to his feet, looking even more scared. "Yes," he said. "Yes, you're my Anthony, you're my son."

"You don't understand! Why can't I make you understand?" Yūi tore the translation charm from his neck, his only physical reminder of an old life, a failed life. He hated that necklace for what it represented, he _hated_ it. "Why won't this stupid thing make you understand? _He_ made it! It's all _his_ fault, _his_ fault! _He_ made me come here, but it's all going wrong, just like before!" He flung the charm away as hard as he could. "I wish I didn't need _his_ stupid help! I wish I didn't need that stupid necklace! It reminds me of _him!_ It reminds me of _me!_"

A rush of rage and grief and energy surged through him. The necklace exploded with a flurry of bright sparks and gray splinters of stone, and then even those fragments dissolved into nothingness.

"Oh, no," Yūi gasped, horrified by what he'd done. "It's gone, it's gone!" Now no one would understand him. Now he wouldn't understand them. They'd know he wasn't Anthony. They hated his magic, and now they'd hate him. His knees gave out, and he sat clumsily in the dirt, crying and crying.

"Anthony," Dad said gently. "Anthony, what were you talking about? _Who_ were you talking about?"

Yūi shook his head mutely, and just kept crying.

"Anthony, it will be all right. It really will."

Yūi jerked his head up. He had understood those words. He had understood everything Dad had just said, even though the charm was destroyed. His wish—he had wished he didn't need the necklace! And his own magic had somehow granted that wish.

"Dad—" he began. "Dad, I—"

"Anthony..." Dad's voice was very, very gentle. "Anthony, just do as I say, and we'll be able to protect you, and everything will be all right."

Yūi nodded to himself. Dad had understood him, too. He really didn't need the magician's necklace any more. And maybe, just maybe, someday he wouldn't need the magician, either. He would practice his magic, and get really good at it, and he would learn to raise the dead himself. Then he wouldn't need that stupid magician. He could bring back Fai on his own.

"Anthony, please, I love you, son. Please, listen to me, please see reason..."

Dad's pleas were heart wrenching. Yūi felt something inside him shift and change, but Dad was talking to Anthony, not Yūi. Yūi would cast off the magician, but he wanted to stay in Peaksville, he wanted to be loved, he wanted his family and friends. He wanted everything that was Anthony's so much.

Even now, after everything that had been said, Dad believed he was Anthony, Anthony, Anthony.

The sun was setting, and low clouds on the horizon were just turning gold and pink, and Yūi was Anthony was Yūi was Anthony was Yūi was Anthony was Yūi was Anthony...

"You want to protect me?" Anthony said. "Dad, what do you want to protect me from?"

Dad still looked scared. "Anthony, even if you only do good things with your magic, people won't understand."

People were the problem. People were always the problem. People would hate Anthony, just because of what he was, because of what came so naturally to him. It was always like that.

"You mean outsiders?" Anthony said, because of course his friends and family wouldn't hate him. They loved him. The Peaksville community was small, and everyone knew everyone else. They all liked him. They were good people.

That left outsiders. Dad thought outsiders would cause problems. Dad wanted to protect Anthony from outsiders.

Anthony got to his feet, the tears on his cheeks forgotten.

"Don't worry, Dad. I think I can fix that," he said with determination.

Panicked, Dad protested, "Anthony, no, don't hurt anyone!"

Anthony concentrated really, really, really hard. He concentrated on his dreams of having Peaksville all to himself, of isolating it from the outside world, of making life so much better for everyone he loved. He wished and wished, and wished some more, and the energy came forth, so much wonderful energy, more than he'd ever felt before. It rushed up from the depths of his soul and flooded out into the world and beyond, overflowing and penetrating and causing and making and doing and being.

The westering sun dipped below the horizon, but the light was bright and brassy, and the blue sky overhead got much, much bluer.

Far off down the road, far beyond the neighbor's fields, the distance became formless and gray. Gray and more gray and nothing else. The gray nothingness crept up into the sky, blending with the unnatural blue. Up and up the gray seeped, swallowing the blue, until overhead all was undifferentiated gray, and there was nothing more, no sun, no moon, no stars or even clouds. Just gray nothing.

Anthony smiled. It was good. It was real good. He had done a real good thing with his magic.

"There," he said with satisfaction. "Now we don't have to worry anymore." He beamed, so proud that he could protect Peaksville.

Dad stared at him with eyes so wide Anthony thought they might fall out. His features looked funny in the new kind of light.

"Anthony," he whispered. "Anthony, what did you do?"

"I made us alone. I made sure Peaksville is alone," Anthony said simply.

"Alone?" Dad frantically spun about, looking first at the trees, the house and yard, the barn, and then he looked at the gray nothing. He just looked and looked at it.

"Don't worry, Dad. Nothing's changed, 'cept there's nothing but Peaksville anymore. Outside was bad, that's what you were trying to tell me. I like things this way. This is good."

Dad was speechless again.

The front door flew open and slammed against the wall. "Nothing works!" Mom shrieked, running out onto the porch. "There's no electricity! The phone's dead! Nothing works! Nothing!"


	9. Chapter 9

The loss of electrical power and the appearance of the gray nothing all about Peaksville provoked fear. At first, people thought that some terrible storm was building, a peculiar weather system. Sometimes, when the skies turned weird colors like green or yellow or black, it indicated that a supercell was forming, that they should prepare for a tornado to sweep through. But the gray nothing never changed and the weather stayed calm, so calm. Perfectly calm. Unnaturally calm.

And then things got stranger. The electricity never came back on. No one could get any battery-powered radios to pick up anything but static. Every telephone was dead.

The peculiar light never dimmed and the sky never darkened, even after the night should have come. Many townspeople rushed to the General Store to be with other folks and try to get information, any information, and speculations ran wild. Pete Manners thought aliens had invaded, and for a moment almost incited a panic, but Old McIntyre called that nonsense. He was sure it was the Russkies, and that they'd finally dropped The Bomb, and that was why the sky was strange and everything was cut off. It was all weird effects from atomic bombs. It was World War III, he said.

Others nodded with terror in their eyes, because that seemed the most likely explanation and they'd been expecting it to happen for years, what with all the "duck and cover" exercises the government made the schoolchildren do. This idea also almost caused panic, but it was a known threat, and almost everyone had storm cellars and many had even built bomb shelters.

That theory was crushed when a stranger arrived. He had been driving through on the interstate, but had been forced to return to the town. He had rushed into the General Store hysterical and babbling about the edge of the world.

Bill Soames and his wife did their best to calm the man down. Then Bill Soames and Dan Hollis took the delivery truck out on the interstate. They were gone for over two hours, and when they came back, they told everyone a strange tale.

Outside the town, at the edge of the last of Peaksville's farms, the interstate just ended. The land and buildings and roads simply ended, and beyond there was nothing but gray nothingness. They had gotten out of the truck, and gone right up to the edge. There was nothing up or down, just gray. It wasn't even like a wall of gray; they said there was something about it that was just _nothing_, and were at a loss to describe it further. They said they hadn't dared to touch it, instead getting back in the truck and driving around, checking other roads out of Peaksville, but all ended the same way. While all of the town and its farms were intact, there was nothing but the gray nothingness beyond them.

The strange light and gray nothingness lasted through the night, and didn't change in the morning. Dan Hollis drove around to the farms, talking to people, trying to see if anyone knew what had happened, or if they had power, or a working telephone, or anything useful to contribute.

At the Fremont home, nothing was normal. Breakfast time came, and Anthony was hungry, but Mom was still in a state of shock. There was no electricity for the stove, so Dad fired up the charcoal barbeque outside, and Aunt Amy used it to cook fried eggs and hash browns. She brought in the nice smelling food, and then poured orange juice.

Mom sat at the kitchen table and stared blankly at the full plate set before her. Dad made a show of digging into his food. "This is delicious, Amy," he said.

Anthony took a sip of orange juice and scowled. "It's warm," he complained. "I don't like warm juice."

Aunt Amy shot a terrified look to Dad, who stared at his son. Hesitantly, Dad explained, "Son, there's no electricity. The refrigerator won't keep things cold without power."

"Oh, right."

"Can you make the electricity come on, son?" Dad asked.

What a silly question that was. "It comes from outside," Anthony said. "There's no outside, anymore."

With forced heartiness, Dad put on a show of acceptance. He said, "No outside. Yes. Right." He sighed. "I'll go get some ice from the General Store later today. We can put it in the refrigerator and keep things cold that way."

Aunt Amy's eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "But with no power, how will the store get ice? Where will it come from?" she asked.

Dad shot her a warning look, and she quieted and ate her breakfast.

When the meal was over, Aunt Amy started to pick up the dishes. Mom automatically got up. "I'll do that," she said, and gathered up all the dirty plates and silverware. She took them to the sink and turned on the faucet. It sputtered and gave up only a little water. "Something's wrong with the well."

Dad leaned hard on the table, resting his head in his hands. "The power's out. The pump won't run." He lurched to his feet. "I'll have to get some water by hand."

Anthony piped up, "That's the right way to do it." All these things had been done by hand back home, back home, back home. People had cooked over fires, and drawn water from wells. There had been no electricity, no gabby-gabby telephones, no noisy radio. Back home.

Back home. Yes, this was the proper way to do things. This was the right way to live.

Dad stiffened at Anthony's careless words. "Yes, well, I'll go see about the water."

"I'll come with you, Dad."

Dad closed his eyes, reopened them, and said, "That would be fine, son."

Happily, Anthony got up from the table and followed his father to go draw water from the well.

Dan Hollis arrived a little later. Aunt Amy let him into the house, and he started talking immediately to her, Mom, and Dad. Dad sent Anthony to his room, which annoyed him. He always liked hearing the grownups talk, and he was sure they would be talking about the great changes he'd made in their lives. He stayed in his room for a few minutes, then he snuck out and tiptoed down the stairs. He stayed just out of sight, and eavesdropped.

"Just can't understand it," Dan Hollis was saying. He sounded really excited and nervous. "That strange gray out there... No one knows what it is. No one has any power or phone service. We're completely cut off! It never even got dark last night. Some people are saying it's an alien invasion, others think it's Russians and World War III, but no one's heard any bombs or gunfire or any kind of fighting."

"It's not aliens or Russians, Dan," Dad said quietly.

Dan looked out the window. "What else could it be?"

Mom grabbed Dad's hand and shook her head. Dad swallowed. "Maybe it's just weird weather," he said.

Dan shook his head. "That's not weather! I tell you, it's the end of the world. There's really an edge out there that just stops at that gray stuff. I've seen it myself!"

"I just don't know, Dan," Dad said.

Anthony couldn't understand what was going on. Why was Dad lying to Dan Hollis? Why not tell him the truth? Anthony knew people were scared of alien invasions and Russians and World War III, but now Peaksville was safe from all of that! The adults were just being stupid.

He bolted into the front room. "You don't have to worry, Mister Hollis! We're safe from Russians and aliens!"

Dad laughed nervously. "Were you listening to us, Anthony? You shouldn't do that. This is grownup talk." He turned to Dan Hollis. "Don't mind him, Dan. You know all young boys think they're invincible."

"Dad, why don't you tell Mister Hollis the truth?" Anthony asked, turning betrayed eyes on his father. "Tell him that Peaksville is safe. I made it safe from everything bad."

"You made it safe?" Dan asked, smiling despite the worry lines around his eyes. "How'd you do that, kiddo?"

"I took Peaksville away."

"Did you, now? That's pretty impressive."

Dad said with a smile, "Yes, my boy has quite an imagination. Now, Dan, I hope someone finds out what happened soon."

Anthony stamped his foot in frustration. Dad was acting like he didn't believe in magic again. It was just like last night. How could he have forgotten so soon? "I'm not imagining. Dad, you know I'm not imagining!"

"Son, don't interrupt while adults are talking."

"I really did it!"

Dan winked at Dad, then said to Anthony, "Well, if you did it, it would be nice if you'd undo it."

Anthony drooped inside. "But it's so nice this way." He didn't want to change things. But then he remembered some of the earlier conversation, when Dan Hollis had complained about how the sky hadn't gotten dark at night. "But I can make the sky better. I can make it so we have dark at night." If he did that, everyone would believe him again.

"Is that so? Well, it's supposed to be daytime now, and it shouldn't be dark. Guess you will have to wait."

"I'll make the sky blue again! Then you'll see!" Anthony said, excited. He could do that. He could make day and night more normal!

"No, Anthony!" Dad yelled, while Aunt Amy also cried out, "Anthony!" Mom moved slowly to a chair and sat down, closing her eyes.

Heedless, Anthony ran out the door, and gazed up at the sky, and concentrated really hard. Pointing up, he commanded, "Sky, be blue! Be blue!"

And the sky was blue.

Dan Hollis stood in the doorway. "Oh, my God."

Anthony wasn't done. "Be normal, sky. Have normal day and night!" The sky brightened a little, just like it should have done at this time of day.

He turned back to his audience, pleased to see how captivated they were. "Isn't it great? I can do lots of other things, too. Really neat things. Watch." He pointed to a robin hopping around in the yard and said, "Go away, robin. Go into the cornfield," and beamed as the robin vanished.

Dad groaned, "Oh, Anthony."

"How—?" Dan Hollis didn't finish.

"It's magic," Anthony told him.

"Magic… Real magic?" Dan went white. "You… You…"

Anthony nodded vigorously. "Yeah! I can do all kinds of neat things with it. I protected Peaksville!" He spread his arms wide. "I did!"

"You… You did this to us?" Dan's face turned from white to an ugly shade of red. He whirled to face Dad. "Is that right? He did it? _He_ cut us off?" He pointed at Anthony, and his arm was so rigid it quivered. "Your boy did this? Your boy did this!"

Dad said, "Dan, calm down."

"No!" Dan spun back around to Anthony and shouted, "Put us back! Put Peaksville back, you—you little monster!"

Anthony cowered as the grown man advanced on him, looming and angry.

"No!" Mom shrieked suddenly. She ran forward and put herself between her son and Dan Hollis. "Leave him alone, Dan! Leave him be!"

Dad grabbed Dan's arms and yanked him back. "I think you'd better leave, Dan. You need to cool off."

Dan snarled, "Your boy—"

"Dan, stop it." Dad stared hard into his friend's eyes, then his gaze flickered to Anthony and back to Dan. He gave a tiny shake of his head. "You need to calm down and be _nice_ to Anthony. He wasn't kidding when he said he could do other _things_."

Dan jerked free. "What the devil are you talking about?"

"He made a two-headed snake, Dan, and a four-legged chicken," Dad said with a strange heartiness. He smiled widely, too widely. "He made a bug explode, and did…other things…to some other animals, like they were toys, playthings. When he was all done with them, he wished them dead and sent them away to the cornfield, just like that robin you saw."

Dan's jaw opened and closed several times. "He… He…"

"You'd better go, Dan."

"Yes," Dan muttered. "Yes, I'd better go." He looked at Anthony, who was still huddled behind his mother's legs. "I'm going now, Anthony. I'm sorry if I upset you. I hope you'll understand. It's just such a shock, you know, having everything cut off like that. But it's okay now. Everything's okay. I'll go." He sidled to his car, never taking his eyes off Anthony until he got in and drove off.

Anthony didn't budge from his mother's protective shadow until the car had completely vanished down the road. "Mom? Dad?" he said uncertainly.

Mom burst into tears. She knelt down and hugged him so tightly he almost couldn't breathe. He squirmed. "Mom! It's too tight!"

Fast as lightning, she dropped her arms and let him go. "Oh, I'm sorry, Anthony," she said, and covered her mouth with one hand. "Oh, oh." Tears still streaked her face. She stood up and backed away a few steps.

"Mom?" Anthony said, feeling a cold sense of loss at her withdrawal.

"Oh, Anthony," she said, and went back into the house. Aunt Amy followed her.

"Dad?" Anthony said, looking up at his father with huge, tragic eyes.

"Yes, son?" Dad replied. He hadn't moved since Dan Hollis had left. He hadn't even turned his head while Mom and Aunt Amy went in the house. He just stared at his son.

"Dad, is everyone… Is everyone going to hate me now?" Anthony was terrified. He shouldn't have asked that question. He didn't know if he wanted to hear his father's answer, or not. "Are they going to yell at me like Mister Hollis?"

Dad's lips parted. For a moment, he didn't say anything. He looked like he was thinking. He took a deep breath. "Anthony, Mister Hollis was just scared. What you did… What you can do… You have to be careful, Anthony. You have to be really, really careful. Don't use your magic in front of people, okay?"

Anthony's heart sank. "Everyone is going to hate me," he concluded. "They will. Just because of what I can do. Just because of what I am."

"Anthony, it would help a lot if you set things to rights."

"How?"

"Well, to start, you could put Peaksville back the way it was."

In a flash, Anthony's mood turned dark. He liked things the way they were now. Everyone was safe, now. _He_ was safe now. Yesterday, even Dad had suggested that Anthony might not be safe. Anthony would not ever, ever go back. Going back would be bad, bad, bad. If even the people of Peaksville were scared of him, how much worse would it be when outsiders found out about him? That was what Dad had been worried about. That was why Dad had said that he wanted to protect Anthony. It was because Dad feared outsiders would hurt Anthony.

But Anthony had taken care of that. He had. He had.

He was safe.

In the back of his head, a mournful voice whispered, "Valeria, Valeria, Valeria…" over and over again. He didn't want to think about Valeria, but he couldn't make the voice shut up.

He never, never, never wanted to face that kind of fear and hatred again. The world outside Peaksville was too big; there were too many people in it. He couldn't protect himself from all of them. He wasn't strong enough yet.

But Peaksville was different. It was small. Only around eighty or so lived in Peaksville, including the children and old folks. Even if the people of Peaksville stopped liking him and being nice to him, there weren't very many of them.

He didn't think any further than that.

"I can't," Anthony lied to his father. "I can't put Peaksville back." And then he told the truth, but it was really about himself and all the other people around him: "Things can't go back the way they were."

* * *

**Additional Notes: **

Regarding the references to WWIII. Many younger readers may not comprehend exactly how much this loomed over every day, otherwise normal people back in the 1950's and 1960's. It was always in the back of people's minds, and would be a natural first thought to any drastic change like occurred in Peaksville in this story. Many people really did build and stock their own backyard bunkers and bomb shelters. The current "doomsday preppers" have nothing on the day to day paranoia back then, which, given "almost there" events like the Cuban Missile Crisis, was justified.


	10. Chapter 10

Peaksville was a small community, tiny, really. One might say that gossip was the town's lifeblood; inevitably, everyone always knew everyone else's business. Even without telephones, word about Anthony, his powers, and what he had done to the town spread like wildfire.

More importantly, speculation about what he _could_ do, especially if he got angry, ran rampant.

At first, a contingent of townsfolk came to politely request that Anthony put Peaksville back. Dad had not wanted Anthony present for that and sent him to his room. Just like when Dan Hollis had come over, Anthony snuck out to listen, unobserved.

Dad told the townsfolk Anthony's big lie as though it were the truth, that Peaksville was stuck. They didn't take it very well, and soon everyone was shouting. Anthony cringed back. Dad hadn't told them any of the good stuff. He hadn't told them that now they were protected from all the things they feared, like Russians and atomic bombs and World War III. He hadn't told them that they could have extra drumsticks when they had a nice chicken dinner. He hadn't told them any of that.

Dad told them all to go home. He said they needed to cool off and actually think about what Anthony's powers meant for all of them, but he hadn't sounded like that was a good thing. The townsfolk certainly acted like it wasn't a good thing. They got scared, and they said there needed to be a town meeting later. Dad promised to attend.

Feeling miserable, Anthony crept back to his room. He lay on his stomach on his bed, rested his head on the pillow, and tried not to think about anything, anything at all.

A few minutes later, Dad came and had a serious talk with him. Dad once more told him not to use magic again, not for any reason. Dad warned that people might want Anthony to do things for them, but Anthony should never do anything they asked. In fact, he told Anthony to stay away from people that asked for special magical things. Dad said it was for his own good, and for everyone else's good.

Anthony was crushed. All his dreams of helping his family and new friends were being systematically destroyed.

Dad didn't listen to any of his objections. Dad was treating him like a little kid! Worse, Dad was treating him like some _ordinary_ kid.

But Anthony knew he was special. No one else in Peaksville could do magic. He was the only one. He should be treated differently than every day, ordinary kids.

Dad left, shutting the bedroom door behind him. Frustrated, Anthony kicked his jack-in-the-box across his bedroom. It broke against the wall.

"Oh, no. I didn't mean it," he said, going down on his knees and picking up the pieces. He liked that toy. He liked the way it played a little tune when he wound it up, and he liked the way the little clown popped up when it was done. He was sorry he'd broken it, and wished it were whole again, and it was.

"See," he muttered, "my magic is good. I do good things with it." He wound up the toy, watched it work, and wound it again. He played with it over and over again.

Dad didn't understand. Nobody understood.

He'd just have to make them understand.

He'd show them all.

Dad didn't want him to use magic. Dad wanted him to hide what he was, hide what he could do.

Anthony already knew that Dad's way wouldn't work. Yūi and Fai had already tried things that way in Valeria. They'd listened to their family and the other grownups and the other kids. They'd tried to stay hidden, or at least pretend to be "safe" for people to be around. They hadn't even tried to use their magic, because grownups told them they shouldn't, and had refused to teach them.

Everyone had feared that Yūi and Fai, as twins, were bad luck, the bringers of misfortune, that they brought bad things just by living. Even Yūi and Fai had believed it. Everyone had feared that Yūi and Fai would use their magic to usurp the throne. But Yūi and Fai had never even thought of doing that.

Well, maybe they should have! Maybe Yūi and Fai should have just gone ahead and taken the stupid throne.

Maybe things in Valeria would have been a lot different if Yūi and Fai hadn't been so afraid, so timid, and used their magic to make things better. Even though no one would teach them, they could have used magic the way Anthony was using it. They could have learned on their own, just like him. They could have shown everyone that even twins deserved to live. And if not, well, at least they could have protected themselves.

But they hadn't, and look what had happened to them.

Anthony was not going to make the same mistakes that Yūi and Fai had made. No one was going to stop him from using magic. No one was going to hurt him again. Everyone would have to be nice.

And someday, if he did everything right, maybe both Yūi and Fai could come back.


	11. Chapter 11

Soon there wasn't a chicken anywhere in Peaksville that had fewer than four legs.

Anthony had experimented a little, so some had five or six legs. The more drumsticks, the better, he reasoned. But those chickens were failures. They never adapted to their new forms and had to be killed very quickly. The four-legged chickens did get used to their extra legs after a while. They even kept laying eggs.

The townsfolk regarded four-legged chickens with deep suspicion, but there weren't any normal chickens, anymore, and people needed to eat, didn't they? And cut off from the world, there weren't going to be any new sources of food. They had to hoard their canned and dry goods, and do their best to survive on what they could raise and make themselves.

Kids stopped coming over to play. Their parents told them to stay away. At first, a handful came over anyway, at least in the beginning. Like Anthony, they thought their parents were dumb, and besides, they wanted to see _real magic_, just like in the storybooks. Anthony showed them a few small tricks, like changing a dull brown rock to bright purple crystal, and giving a mouse three tails.

They thought that was neat.

But then, for reasons Anthony never really understood, several of them suddenly got angry. "You can really do these things," said one boy a year older than Anthony. "You really did make all that gray nothing around our town, didn't you?"

Another boy yelled, "If you can do these things, you should put Peaksville back the way it was! We don't like it this way."

The other children, emboldened by their peers, also got mad. "We can't get anything new," one said. Another accused, "The movie house and the TV don't work anymore, and it's all your fault!" They all started shouting complaints and accusations.

The two biggest boys loomed over Anthony, and one of them raised a fist, and Anthony got scared out of his mind. "No!" he cried, covering his head with his hands, and power surged. The boy's fist disappeared before it could hit Anthony. Blood spurted from the gory stump. The boy dropped to the ground, and screamed and screamed.

The other children started screaming, too. Most of them ran away, but some stayed and just kept screaming. The maimed boy's screams overrode them all.

"Stop it!" Anthony also screamed, plugging up his ears with both hands and scrunching his eyes closed. "Just go away! All of you go away!"

And they did. Their screaming stopped, and they vanished into the cornfield.

After that, no more children ever came to the Fremont's house. They didn't even walk near it, instead finding long, roundabout ways to avoid it. But Anthony didn't care. Other children were mean. They'd been mean in Valeria, and they were mean in Peaksville, too. It was a good thing they stayed away.

He was afraid other children would hurt him, and that maybe the adults might hurt him, too. He remembered that Dad had been afraid of what other people might think, or do. "I'm trying to protect you," Dad had said. Anthony knew he needed to protect himself. He wished really, really hard that no one would ever do anything to hurt him. He didn't know if that wish worked. There was no visible sign, but at least he'd tried.

The children weren't the only people to stay away. The adults didn't come over to visit if they didn't have to, either, and Anthony's family didn't encourage anyone to even try. Dad went into town and had a talk there, and after that everybody did their best to be nice to Anthony. Sometimes, Bill Soames would come by on his bicycle to deliver a few special grocery items that Mom requested, like cans of the tomato soup that Anthony liked so much.

Mom and Dad and Aunt Amy rooted around in the storage shed and the barn, and found some wonderful old antiques that didn't require electricity. They found an iron stove that burned wood, and an old, manual clothes washer and wringer, and all sorts of neat things from the past that had just been rusting. Dad cleaned off the rust, and oiled the moving parts, and made them work again.

Everyone in town did the same, getting by as best they could without electricity and any of the modern conveniences it provided. Anthony thought he could make things easier for them, but everyone just told him he was a real good boy, and that he should just go play and enjoy himself.

One Sunday, there was a funeral for Missus Kent's husband, who had died recently of a heart attack. Anthony hadn't done it. He hadn't had anything to do with it at all, but people still looked askance at him. Dad hadn't let Anthony go to the funeral, or to the potluck where people brought special food for poor Missus Kent.

Anthony liked her. Missus Kent had always been nice to him, and he felt awfully sorry for her. She was so sad. Without thinking, he wished her husband would go back to her. And Mister Kent did, a shambling, not-alive thing that walked home from the graveyard the very next day.

No one ever asked Anthony for anything. No one ever let Anthony see anything but a smiling face.

Anthony learned a valuable lesson from what he'd done with Mister Kent. He learned that maybe he could raise the dead. Sure, it had been an accident, but he had still done it. Mister Kent wasn't really alive, Anthony knew, but rather an animated dead body. It was starting to rot, but it kept moving. Anthony's magic wish would keep it moving until it fell apart.

But if he could do that much, Anthony reasoned, why couldn't he someday really raise the dead? He could raise Fai himself someday, even better than he'd raised Mister Kent. "I can learn to keep the dead flesh from rotting," he said to himself, "and that way I can bring Fai back. I just need to learn to keep things from rotting away."

After that, when he killed something, he practiced reanimating it. But no matter how much he practiced, he just couldn't figure out how to keep the dead-alive animals from rotting, stinking, and falling apart after two or three weeks. This was going to be much, much harder than anything else he'd done. Dad, Anthony knew, approved.

"That's real good, Anthony," Dad said with a broad smile, when he saw a crow that Anthony had reanimated. "That's a real good thing you've done, bringing that crow back to life."

Anthony poked the crow with a stick. It was just a dead bird he'd found near the tree. He hadn't killed it, and it was a bit ragged, since it had already been dead for a day or two. The crow hopped stiffly and tilted its head at a strange angle. It was kind of funny, Anthony thought.

Dad shuddered, but Anthony had gotten used to seeing Dad act a little weird. At least Dad didn't tell him not to use his magic anymore.

"It's not really alive, Dad," said Anthony, feeling compelled to tell his father the truth. He poked the crow again. "I haven't gotten that part figured out yet. He'll fall apart in a few weeks, just like the other animals, and like Mister Kent did a while ago. I need a lot more practice."

Dad shook again, all over, and then he smiled even more broadly. "It's a good thing you're practicing, Anthony. It's real good."

Anthony smiled up at him. It was so nice that Dad was happy again. "Thanks, Dad," he said, and went back to playing with his dead-alive crow.

Anthony didn't just experiment with making dead things move and pretend to live. He learned accidentally one day that he could be somewhere else just by wishing it. He had been a long way out in a field, looking for a cat he'd seen out there. He wanted to play with it, but then Mom had called him in for supper. He wished he didn't have to run so far, and by magic he was in the kitchen, still covered in straw and dirt from the field.

Mom had let out a little shriek, then said, fanning herself, "Oh, Anthony, you scared me. How did you get here so fast?" And then her eyes had widened, and she put a hand over her mouth. "Oh, but it's real good that you got here so fast. Real good! You're a good boy to come in for dinner so fast!"

"I wished it, Mom," Anthony said, answering her question with pride. "I just wished I was back here, and I was! Isn't it great? I've never done that before!"

Mom nodded, her head jerking up and down. "Yes, it's real great. It's the greatest thing ever," she said. She took a deep breath. "But you need to wash up for dinner. Go get cleaned up now, son."

"Okay," Anthony chirped, and went out to pump some water.

After that, he experimented with wishing himself all over Peaksville. It was funny the way people would let out a little shriek and jump whenever he popped in right in front of them. But he knew they didn't really mind, because they always told him what a good trick that was, and how he was getting really good at magic.

He got really good at wishing himself around that way, so good he wondered if maybe someday he could wish himself to wherever that magician was. That magician was really, really far away, in a whole different world, but he had Fai, and Anthony knew that, someday, he was going to have to go find Fai. He would need Fai's body in order to bring Fai back to life.

"That magician had better keep his promise," Anthony growled to himself, whenever he thought of that. "He'd better keep Fai from rotting."

One day, he was ruminating on the worrisome idea that Fai was rotting, while playing with a gopher, a sparrow, and a lizard. He got the good idea to put them together into one animal, but he must have been feeling so grumpy it affected his magic, because his creation turned out to be an ugly, nasty thing. Its mood was as bad as his own, and it snapped at him and tried to bite him. With half a thought, he wished it into a grave in the cornfield.

Behind him, Aunt Amy sat in her rocking chair on the porch. She was singing softly while rocking. Anthony still didn't like singing. He always put up with it from Aunt Amy, because he liked her a lot, but he was in a really rotten mood. Before he knew it, he wished she wouldn't sing.

And she stopped singing.

Oh, no. Sometimes, when he wasn't thinking, he accidentally did things, like that time he had wished Mister Kent would go back to Missus Kent. Or at other times, if he was careless, he caused a strange transformation, or sent things away to the cornfield. He turned, half expecting her to be gone. "Aunt Amy?" he said. To his relief, she was still there, rocking in her chair.

She smiled at him with empty eyes. "Hello, Anthony," she said.

After that day, Aunt Amy never sang again, and her gaze was always vacant. She didn't do much except rock in her chair on the porch, and her smiles were weak and bland, but she was still nice to Anthony, and he still liked her. But she wasn't very lively, anymore.

And so days passed into months, and everyone was nice to Anthony, really nice.

Everything was good.


	12. Chapter 12

Fei Wang Reed didn't often give much thought to his budding little pawn, but he did trouble himself to check in on Anthony once or twice. Just to be certain things were going to plan.

He discovered some unexpected anomalies. Fei Wang Reed had always known that the child would be an immensely powerful magician, but he hadn't expected Anthony to be able to isolate the whole town like that. Not while he was still so young and unskilled in his power. It seemed, Fei Wang Reed thought, that he had chosen his pawn even better than he'd first thought. Anthony was a true delight.

Indeed, sweet Anthony was becoming everything that Fei Wang Reed had wished. In a little over a year, the broken little mage-child had become quite a lovely monster. The brat had grown nicely high-handed, and was turning out much more to Fei Wang Reed's taste than he would have under the tutelage of that late and unlamented wizard king.

Fei Wang Reed smiled unpleasantly. No one in that ridiculous hick town was safe. None would even consider thwarting the least of their little monster's desires. Nonetheless, those silly people tried to live their lives as normally as they could. It was quite amusing sometimes to watch their efforts.

Take that surprise birthday party for one of the town's residents, one Dan Hollis. Anthony had spoiled that nicely, hadn't he? Hollis had gotten drunk on some of the town's last reserves of liquor, brought out especially for him. The inebriated idiot had ranted and raved, and had even deliberately focused Anthony's ire upon himself.

"You!" he had screamed at Anthony's parents. "You had him! You and her hadda go an' have him!" And then he had turned on Anthony, growling, "You monster, you. You dirty little monster. You murderer!"

He had begged someone to kill Anthony, to end their sojourn in hell, while he had Anthony's attention focused on him.

Of course, no one had.

Fei Wang Reed chuckled. By then, those fools were all too cowed and controlled. Anthony had proven to be an unstoppable force, just by being a typical child: a child whose thoughtless actions and random whims were enforced by the power of a god.

Or rather, a magician. A supremely powerful magician, with not a single restraining hand upon him. Mere humans could only attempt to coax him with gentle, nonthreatening words, and hope for the best.

Anthony had called Dan Hollis "a very bad man," and had turned the drunkard into a jack-in-the-box. A giant toy, with the man's head bouncing on a spring instead of a silly clown face.

Oh, little Anthony had such an amusing sense of humor. And he was so imaginative! Fei Wang Reed had laughed and laughed. He had kept laughing even as Hollis's widow had screamed, and as Anthony's father had begged his counterfeit son to send the thing to "the cornfield." He kept laughing even as Anthony had nodded and complied, and as another person started playing the piano, and Anthony sat and listened to the music, and everyone behaved as though nothing important had happened.

The nasty little psychopath was doing so well for himself. He was turning out to be every bit as self-centered and callous, as uncaring of others' feelings and lives, as Fei Wang Reed could have hoped. Fei Wang Reed smiled smugly. There was no need to scrupulously monitor this pawn's growth. Left alone, Anthony would become the perfect tool, all on his own.

Anthony would soon betray people without a thought, even family and close friends. He would never care about the consequences, because for him, there were never any consequences to care about. He just did whatever he wanted, and people told him that it was all good.

Things couldn't be better.

* * *

Author's Note: I suspect that everyone probably expected me to rewrite "It's a Good Life" using this version of Yūi/Anthony. I did consider it, but that particular Twilight Zone episode is so famous and, well, iconic, that it just didn't seem like a good idea. Honestly, I could not have done justice to it. It is perfect as it is.

So I only did a brief synopsis from Fei Wang Reed's point of view.

If you really need to see it, just go watch the episode on Hulu. It's much, much better than anything I could have done.


	13. Chapter 13

The light outside was bright and brassy, and Anthony was bored. Bored, bored, bored. He kicked a rock, and turned it into dust.

He'd been in Peaksville for several years, now. Everyone thought he was nine, because that's the age he should have been. Three years older than the age Anthony had been when he'd gotten sick, and then when all the changes had taken place.

So, fine, he was nine. He got a birthday party, and it was real nice, just like his other birthday parties. No kids ever attended, just adults, but that was normal. Everyone who came was always real nice for him, and gave him presents they had made, like wooden carvings, and tasty food. There were always decorations. This time, he'd finally noticed how faded and worn the paper streamers and other decorations were. No one had gotten new party decorations in three years. So he wished the decorations new, and they became bright and pretty again.

But now the party was over, and people had gone home.

Anthony's mind caught a moth, and he made it fly in all kinds of intricate patterns before he sent it careening into a rock. Then he made the smushed bug parts come back together, and fly again.

Magic had gotten really easy over the years. He'd noticed that, as he practiced, it got easier and easier to wish for whatever he wanted. He also noticed that the familiar surge of heat and light and power that made his wishes come true got stronger and stronger. The bigger the wish, the stronger the rush got, and he figured that just using his magic made it get stronger.

That made sense. Exercising made people stronger physically, and he was exercising his magic. Pretty soon, he would be able to do anything, anything at all. But it was taking so long. He wanted it to happen faster. He had important things to do.

He still thought about Fai a lot, and the magician, and sometimes even Valeria. Peaksville was the perfect place for him; everyone treated him nice and he always got whatever he wanted. Yūi and Fai should have made Valeria into the same kind of place he'd made Peaksville. Then Fai would never have died.

Anthony had gotten even better at reanimating animals. They didn't rot so soon, as long as he remembered to infuse them with new magic every so often. They kept going for months and months. There were a lot of bedraggled looking dead-alive gophers and cats and dogs running around Peaksville these days.

But he still didn't have enough power to make them stay not-dead forever. Eventually, even the extra magic couldn't hold them together. They couldn't keep going after a certain point. Even though his magic had grown a lot, it still wasn't enough. He needed more. A lot more.

He let the moth fall apart, and then thought himself to the little cemetery, where he experimented with a dead person, someone who had been in a grave for a long, long time. He wished the grave open. In the decomposing casket, there remained nothing but bones and tatters of clothing. He pulled the skeleton together, and made it get up. The bones danced and rattled, but after a few minutes they fell into a jumbled pile. It was funny, but it wasn't a good experiment. He hadn't been able to put flesh on those bones. He wasn't quite sure how to do that.

That magician had better have taken good care of Fai, he thought darkly. Fai better be preserved. Anthony often thought about Fai, and he often thought about how that magician might be treating Fai. He always worried a little that the magician had lied, and that he had let Fai rot.

The hot, brassy light shone down from the featureless sky. Anthony thought it was too hot, and made it snow. There. That was better.

Then he frowned, and stopped the snow. Sometimes, when he made it snow at the wrong time, some of Dad's crops died. Even though Dad and Mom always smiled and said it was fine, it was good, he understood that people worried. They needed to eat those crops. Anthony loved his Mom and Dad, and his Aunt Amy, and so he tried not to ruin their crops.

He sighed, and plopped on the grass, and stared at the open grave with the pile of bones next to it. He wished the bones back into it, and covered them again. The grass wasn't as good as it had been before. It was clumpy and kind of gray, because he hadn't been careful when he'd opened the grave and had just moved the grass and dirt into a random pile.

But no one came to this little cemetery if they didn't have to. Not since old Sam Kent had shambled home to Missus Kent. Not since people had discovered that Anthony came to the cemetery to play.

Something fluttered down from the sky.

Anthony frowned. He'd stopped the snow, and Peaksville was isolated, and anyway, he controlled the sky and everything in it. He made it be clear or cloudy, made it snow or rain. He'd put some things on automatic, like rain for crops, but right now the sky should be clear. Why was anything falling like that, especially since he hadn't done any sky wishing? Curious, he went over to where it had landed.

It was a feather. A strangely shaped feather, with an intricate design on it. It radiated power. Immense power, magic power.

With a gasp, Anthony remembered.

The magician had told him about this feather. It was a memory feather, and it belonged to some magical princess. Over the years, he had forgotten. But now he remembered.

Anthony picked it up. It had such amazing power. It made his whole body vibrate. With a feather like this, he really could do anything. He was sure of it.

That magician had said there was another one, too. He had said that two would fall, and that Anthony was supposed to take these feathers on a long journey. A journey to many other worlds, a journey to collect the princess's memory feathers. And then the magician had said he would bring Fai back to life.

However, Anthony only had this one. Where might the other one be? Peaksville was small, and alone. Anthony wondered if he could wish the other feather to him.

He tried. He tried with all his might, but could not find it. He must not have enough power, yet, to do things like that. The feathers were very, very powerful, and maybe the other one didn't want to be found. Or maybe it wasn't yet in Peaksville. Who knew when it would fall?

"I need more magic," Anthony said, gazing at the shining feather. "I need more to find the other one. I need more power for Fai."

Wait, he had more magic now, didn't he? He had this amazing, incredibly powerful feather. Why should he wait to use it? Why should he take it on some stupid journey? He already planned to raise Fai from the dead all by himself. He wasn't going to trust that stupid magician to do it.

One thing he'd learned over the years was that adults couldn't do anything without help. Oh, sure, they could grow crops, and carve things, and sew clothes and stuff, but they couldn't do anything that Anthony really needed, like raise the dead. Only Anthony could do magic. Only Anthony could animate dead things.

That magician probably was just as useless as other adults. Even more useless, in fact. Other adults didn't try to make Anthony do things for them, but that magician wanted Anthony to go on a journey to collect all the memory feathers. He wanted Anthony to make sure that the journey went a certain way, and that none of the other travelers messed it up. He wanted Anthony to kill anyone who got in the way.

He wanted Anthony to do all the work.

Anthony didn't do work.

"That magician is stupid," said Anthony. He looked at the feather. "This is mine, now," he said aloud, although no one but birds and trees and insects could hear him.

He needed the power. He needed all the magic power he could get, as fast as he could get it. He wanted this feather's power for himself. He wanted it in him.

So he used the feather's power, and mixed it with his own. He changed the feather into an ice cream cone, because he liked ice cream, and he ate it all up.

At once, he felt his power surge. Oh, it was so wonderful! Such an amazing feeling! He was more powerful than ever!

He needed to find other feathers, and eat them, too.

He wished really, really hard again, and the second feather floated down from the sky.

Anthony smiled. He was going to find more of those feathers for himself, and he was going to eat them all. He was going to eat as many as he could, until he was as strong as the magician!

No, stronger. He was going to be stronger than that magician, stronger than anyone. And then he'd make all his dreams come true! Every last one of them!

And if those feathers were in other worlds, well, he ought to be able to handle that! He'd moved Peaksville out of its own world when he'd been little, and he was way stronger than that now!

Why, he could probably go to other worlds right now, under his own power! He didn't need that stupid magician or those stupid travel companions. He could go looking for feathers any time he wanted!

He'd find as many of those feathers as he could!

He turned the second feather into more ice cream, and gobbled that one down, too.

And when the power glowed within him, stronger than he had ever imagined, stronger than anything in the whole wide world, maybe even stronger than an atom bomb, Anthony wished really, really hard. He wanted more feathers. He didn't want to settle for just one more. He wished he was in a place with more than one of those feathers, like Peaksville. Peaksville had had two of them. Other places might have that many, also. Or maybe even more! Wouldn't that be something?

He wished and wished, and suddenly bright lights swirled around him. He clenched his eyes shut, and felt a moment of terror, then felt as though his whole body was spinning on an amusement park ride. One of those whirly, twirly ones. He could see a kaleidoscope of gyrating colors right through his closed eyelids.

Then the wild lights and funhouse spinning stopped. The ground beneath his feet crunched. Icy wind blasted through him.

"Wow," he said. "That was some ride." He opened his eyes.

He was in a land of glistening ice and snow. Mountains rose all around him, with stands of evergreen trees clinging to the rugged slopes. A brilliant blue sky arced over him, with the sun up at its midday high. Anthony hadn't seen real sky or a real sun in years, and had forgotten how beautiful they were. He looked down, and saw that he stood on a rather precarious ledge. Down below, at the base of a steep incline, nestled a medieval town of whitewashed walls and dark-stained timbers. It looked like it belonged in a fairy tale.

"I'm not in Peaksville, anymore," he breathed. Fog formed in front of his face with the exhalation. "I'm really not in Peaksville. Wow," he repeated. "I really did it." And to think he'd been bored not too long ago!

He had paid a price to get to this world, though. Despite having two magical feathers adding power to his own magic, he was tired. He would need a little time to rest before he went home.

Either that, or he could get more feathers, and use their power to go back to Peaksville.

The moment he thought of that, the power of the feathers inside him thrummed. He looked around, and thought that a spot of snow high on the steep slope above the town looked kind of funny. Strange, like the color was off somehow, although he couldn't have said exactly what was wrong with it. Maybe it wasn't really different, maybe it was just something only he could see.

The spot seemed to glow. It brightened and faded. As it faded, the thrumming inside his middle swelled.

"That must be a feather," he guessed. The feathers inside him knew their own kind. They called to the other feathers. They all wanted to join together.

"Okay, then I'll get it." He reached out both hands, just like a wizard he'd once seen in a movie a long, long time ago when there had still been movies in Peaksville, and wished that he had the feather.

The snowpack shuddered. An object erupted from it in a geyser of white flurries and flew toward him. It gleamed in the sun like a giant crystal, and it came to float before him. It was a massive pillar of ice, and embedded inside it, inside it...

"Two feathers!" Anthony crowed in excitement. "Break, ice!" The ice crystal split in two, liberating the feathers. "Oh, this is great!" Anthony said, feeling the amazing power of the feathers as he took hold of them.

He turned them into a ham sandwich: one feather became warm, home baked bread, and the other smoked ham and mustard. It was delicious, and inside him the glow of power became brighter and brighter.

The mountains rumbled. The broached snowfield shivered, and great chunks of it broke loose from its slope. A mass slid down, down, roaring, gaining speed and more snow, picking up trees and boulders come loose from the earth. It threw up beautiful mists of ice crystals as it traveled.

Anthony watched, transfixed. He'd never seen an avalanche in action before, just a few pictures in a book from the lending library. Before he had pulled Peaksville into its own little world, he'd never been anywhere. Valeria was cold, he recalled vaguely from Yūi's old, faded memories, but even when Yūi had lived there he'd never been out to watch an avalanche.

It was awesome. Awesome, and frightening, and also fascinating. It was so loud, and so _fast!_ How could so much snow be so fast?

The avalanche engulfed the town in a wild flow of white snow and deafening noise.

A few moments later, the unearthly roar ceased, and white powder drifted lazily in the air. The base of the slope had been filled with uprooted trees, rocks, and deep, deep snow. The town had vanished, as though it had never existed, as though it had only been a dream.

"Wow," Anthony said for a third time. "That was really neat."

The wind gusted in the eerie silence. He wrapped his arms about himself. The power within kept him pretty warm, but he still thought he ought to have a coat. A cozy winter coat encased him. Anthony smiled. His magic just kept getting better and better. This feather hunt was the best idea he'd had in a long time.

The thrumming inside him faded a little, but it didn't stop. "Is there another feather in this world?" Anthony asked aloud. Wouldn't that be amazing? Imagine, three of the magical memory feathers in one, single world!

"Let's go see where it is," he said, and just like he did back home when he felt too lazy to walk, he wished and _went_. This time, though, he didn't know where he was going. He was just following the thrumming.

He materialized in the midst of more mountains. These were even more rugged than the last, and barren, without trees, and every bit as cold. The wind blew, and ice coated the stone in crystal sheaths. The footing was slippery and treacherous. But the view more than made up for it.

A castle literally _floated_ before his eyes!

Its structures—towers and walls and gates and buttresses—were built atop a mountain that looked as though it had been uprooted from the rest of the range. The entire construct hovered in the air, stable and unmoving as though it rested in solid, unyielding rock. And that wasn't the most incredible part. No, in addition to all those other wonders, this castle had _wings!_

Clusters of great, translucent wings of multihued light seemed to hold the castle aloft. They were beautiful, magical...

"Wow," Anthony said yet again. "Amazing," he added, because he thought he'd said "wow" often enough, and really needed something different to say.

Even his dim memories of the fancy castles of Valeria couldn't match this one. He'd never seen anything like it. He'd never even imagined anything like it.

This really was the neatest world. Anthony wondered if others out there would prove as marvelous. What a shame he'd be leaving it soon. He'd really like to explore.

Well, why not at least take a better look? He squinted, peering at the castle. He thought he made out people manning the towers and walls. Guards.

"Hmph," he grunted. Guards would put a crimp in things. This world must also have magicians, because how else could that castle stay floating like that? Someone must have put magic on it to make it rise up from the mountains and hover like that. He should finish his job, and just go home. How disappointing.

"So where is it?" he asked the power that filled him. "Where is the feather?"

A spot glimmered at the base of the castle, where it met the rock. Without conscious thought, his eyes were drawn unerringly back to the castle. The feather was deep inside, very deep. Guards, and probably magicians, would make things difficult. He couldn't go in there looking for the feather. Besides, now he remembered that castles had kings and royal courts. Valeria had had a king and royal court. It had been a bad place. This castle looked really pretty, but maybe it wasn't any nicer than Valeria.

So why bother searching? He hadn't had to search for the other two feathers. He'd just called them to him, and they had come. He could do that again. He would just wish really hard and the feather would come to him. That would make life so much easier. He held out his arms, palms up, and closed his eyes, and wished with all his might. A moment later, a smooth weight dropped into his hands.

He opened his eyes and looked at what he had summoned. In his hands rested an egg-shaped object of polished crystal. It glinted oddly, obscuring its center, but he saw the tip of one of the memory feathers within.

"Got you," he said happily.

Then he felt a shimmer of unfamiliar, frosty magic behind him.

"You there! Boy!" a man's voice called from the rear. He didn't sound friendly.

Anthony turned, and saw several men. Two carried sticks, or rods, or some kind of weapons, that they held with obvious threat. They were dressed in blue overcoats trimmed with fur, and funny furred hats. Anthony thought the clothes were uniforms. The third man was kind of old, and dressed in fancier clothes decorated with elaborate, blue and white designs. Power glowed around him, the same frosty power Anthony had felt just a moment before. That man must be a magician!

Compared to Anthony, though, he was pretty weak.

The magician raised a staff topped with a shiny crystal, and strange, glowing writing flowed from it to swirl in the air. Anthony couldn't read what it said, but its effects were unmistakable. Five more guards in uniform appeared. They formed a semicircle around Anthony, so that there was nowhere for him to go but off the cliff.

The magician spoke again. "What do you think you're doing, using magic to steal from the royal treasury? You didn't even bother to disguise your misdeeds! Answer me, you arrogant little thief!" He shook his staff at Anthony.

That magician must have detected Anthony's magic, which was pretty big and strong. Anthony didn't want to bother with the magician or the guards. With barely a thought, he wished them all away into the cornfield.

But more might come. They were mad that he'd taken this crystal egg with the feather inside. He'd have to wish more of them away. He'd better hurry.

He made a wish, and cracked open the egg to release the feather within. This one he converted to chocolate. He really liked chocolate, and Peaksville didn't have any of the candy anymore. But now, with his own power and that of five feathers, he could make it any time he wanted! Mom would be able to make her delicious fudge again, once he made her some chocolate to use.

In the distance, guards were streaming out of the castle and onto the drawbridges. They were coming for him, and this time they were just running in the ordinary way, rather than being transported by magic. But there were probably more magicians, too. Anthony looked at the amazing castle. He should get rid of it. He should knock it out of the sky. That would stop the guards and magicians from chasing him.

This whole situation seemed really familiar to him. Why was that?

His eyes widened. Why, this was just like those fantasy adventure stories that he used to love so much! Dad used to read them to him, before he'd gotten his own magic. Those were stories where the brave young hero faced great dangers to retrieve a magical object from the mystic temple or fortified castle! That was exactly what he'd done!

He had retrieved a magic gem, just like in the stories. And that floating castle looked like it could double as a temple, especially with that cathedral-like structure at the very top. It was both a castle and a mystic temple.

This whole land came straight out of a fairytale, with its picturesque medieval town and its gorgeous floating castle, all surrounded and protected by imposing mountains, and covered in pristine snow and ice that glittered in the sunlight.

And just like in the stories, the castle was full of angry guards and wicked sorcerers!

In those tales, the hero always got away, usually by causing the temple or castle to collapse or blow up or something. Right now, though, the story felt incomplete, unsatisfying.

Anthony smiled, his bright, blue eyes focusing intensely on the winged castle, and he felt the magic inside him surge.

The floating mountain and the castle built upon it trembled. The luminous wings faded, brightened, faded again—then vanished. The entire mountain started to glow a soft, blue-green color. Slowly, the whole thing sank downward. Bridges and buttresses snapped and broke, trails and walkways crumbled. The guards screamed shrilly as they fell. The entire castle shook. The mountain glowed brighter, the color turning to red, then orange, then white. The structure sagged downward, but it didn't fall. Anthony thought it was pressing against the strange glow, as though straining against some kind of magical net or web.

Then the glow exploded in a brilliant burst of fireworks, and the mountain and its castle crashed down to the depths below.

It sounded like a huge earthquake, with stone breaking, grinding and rolling. Plumes of dirt and snow rose up, clogging the air beneath where the mountain had once hovered.

Anthony smiled again with honest pleasure, and he clapped his hands at the conclusion of the show. What an accomplishment! He'd finished the traditional storybook escape! Now, to complete the story, he just needed a princess to rescue. Oh, but he supposed he should have done that before destroying the castle. Well, the hero didn't always rescue a princess. Sometimes he just took his treasure and went on to his next adventure. Or he went home to adoring family and friends, who were thrilled to hear of his achievements, and who would honor him and shower him with riches and glory.

So that was what Anthony decided to do. He'd go home, and rest up for his next adventure. He'd handle that one better. Next time, he'd remember to rescue the princess before bringing down the castle and destroying the wicked sorcerers.

He rather hoped the next world was as neat as this one had been. But really, he thought, that was just fantasy. It was for little kids, and he wasn't a little kid anymore. He was nine, and he was saving someone better than any princess. He was saving Fai. It was more important that the next world had memory feathers waiting for him than that there was a fairytale adventure to be had. He needed to get as many feathers as he could, so he needed to concentrate on worlds that had more than one, even if those worlds were boring.

Maybe other worlds only had one feather. That thought rather disturbed Anthony. In that case, it would take a long time to travel to different worlds and get feathers. It might take years. But he would do it, no matter how long it took. He would need a lot of power to bring Fai back to life.

A whole lot of power.

Nodding to himself, he wished himself back to Peaksville.


	14. Chapter 14

Fei Wang Reed's first inkling that things might not be going according to plan was when he could no longer view Peaksville. His mirror showed nothing but rolling bands of gray and black interference.

When had that happened?

Fei Wang Reed really couldn't say. He hadn't paid much attention to his pawn in Peaksville, and couldn't recall the last time he'd bothered to check on the dear little waif. He'd had other futures to influence, other schemes to guide. The brat's life had been going as expected, so Fei Wang Reed had left matters alone, assuming they would take care of themselves.

But obviously that had been a mistake.

Annoyed, Fei Wang Reed scowled and tried the mirror again. Still no images of Peaksville, still the same frustrating static on the mirror's large, round surface.

He spent the next few weeks attempting to view Peaksville, with no success. It became something of an obsession for him. Fei Wang Reed hated being thwarted—and by his own bratty little tool, at that!

There might be another explanation, he conceded in a moment of contemplation. The brat might not have done it himself. Perhaps the Dimension Witch had discovered his revised ploy and had set some spells in place to block him. She always went to great lengths to try to hinder him, although he couldn't imagine why. After all, his plans wouldn't just be of profit to him. They should also benefit her. She should be grateful to him, but she displayed a profound lack of appreciation for his efforts.

Whatever the reason for his thwarted attempts to view Peaksville, the situation annoyed him.

Then one day, he again stood directly before the mirror. He still couldn't view Peaksville, but the patterns of interference had changed. The static hissed, the black and gray bars rolled first up, then down, then up again. Fei Wang Reed could have sworn that the wretched thing was taunting him. Inexplicably, the rolling became irregular, the lines wavy and undulating, then the mirror went blank.

"So this is where you live," came an unexpected voice from behind him.

Startled, Fei Wang Reed spun around. He goggled at the youthful owner of that voice. An adolescent boy with blond hair and bright blue eyes stared back at him with curiosity and purpose.

"How did you get here?" Fei Wang Reed blurted. No one should be able to enter his sanctum without his permission. It should be impossible. He had set the magical wards himself. And besides that, why hadn't he sensed the boy's arrival?

The boy smiled. "That was easy. I just wished real hard that I would be where Fai was, and I came."

"You wished?" said Fei Wang Reed. Not an ordinary wish, nor the type that was granted by the Dimension Witch. The boy seemed to have used a rather crude and rudimentary form of spellcasting, but obviously it was serviceable, and very, very powerful. Recognition suddenly struck him. "Wait, you said Fai? You're—"

"I'm Anthony Fremont. Don't you remember me?" The boy, Anthony, looked slightly disappointed.

Fei Wang Reed remembered, all right. "You've grown since I last saw you. How old are you now?"

Anthony perked up. "I'm thirteen now! I've done what you told me." His voice cracked. "I replaced _him_, the other Anthony, and I learned my magic real good. I can do anything." The last word pitched high and low as his voice broke again.

Fei Wang Reed winced at the youth's difficulty controlling his larynx. There were differences in the flow of time between worlds. Time clearly passed more swiftly for Peaksville than it did for him. He had missed so many of Anthony's growing years. The fact that he'd been prevented from watching hadn't helped.

Anthony had managed to invade Fei Wang Reed's home without apparent difficulty, and now he was bragging about his abilities. How aggravating. "I hadn't realized so many years had passed," Fei Wang Reed said. "I lost my ability to look in on you."

"Yeah, I decided I didn't want anyone spying on me," Anthony said darkly, confirming that he was the source of that blasted static. "Now no one but me can watch anything that goes on in Peaksville."

Fei Wang Reed didn't like that tone. It suggested that his little pawn had ideas and plans of his own.

Anthony said, "So, I'm ready for that journey you talked about."

"You are much too early," Fei Wang Reed told him. "You still need to finish growing up, and none of your _companions_ is ready to depart yet." In fact, Fei Wang Reed had barely begun those other preparations. They were nowhere near complete. "Go home and wait until I'm ready for you."

"How much longer will it take? I'm ready _now!_"

"The timing is not certain. The future is a fluid thing. Other pieces of the puzzle must be assembled first." Now go home, you stupid brat, Fei Wang Reed thought with annoyed contempt.

Anthony gave him a strange look. "Can you really bring Fai back from the dead like you promised? Turn back time and make it so that Fai's death never happened?"

"Of course I can. Do you think I lied?"

"Yes," Anthony said simply.

Fei Wang Reed was taken aback by that plain statement. His lip twitched into an unpleasant sneer. Teenagers! Puffed up, self-important children who thought they knew it all.

Anthony said, "I think you've lied to me about everything." He sniffed arrogantly.

Fei Wang Reed felt his blood pressure rising. "Now, look here, you little brat—"

"Shut up."

To his shock, that was exactly what Fei Wang Reed did. His hands flew to his throat and mouth. He couldn't utter a sound, not even a halfhearted choke.

At that moment, he realized that the brat wasn't afflicted by any uncontrollable impulse to kill him, despite the proximity. Despite the curse the brat still bore. But that could only mean… No! It wasn't possible.

It wasn't…

Could that misbegotten child actually be more powerful than himself?

"Adults are so useless," Anthony said. "They can't do anything. I learned that a long time ago." He curled his lip. "You're no different, are you?"

Fei Wang Reed glared at him.

"I also learned I didn't need you. I destroyed your language charm years ago, and I did just fine without it. I told you, I can do anything. What do you think of that?"

The silence stretched out. Anthony stamped his foot impatiently. "Say something."

Totally outraged now, Fei Wang Reed touched his throat.

"Oh, sorry." Anthony didn't sound the least bit contrite, but he did remove his magical gag.

Fei Wang Reed coughed a little. His broken toy had grown up, all right. The arrogant brat! Cocky teenager! How dare a mere _pawn_ use magic as cavalierly as that on _him!_ He'd make the whelp pay—but more important matters came first. With effort, he worked to get control over his temper, and schooled his expression and voice into a semblance of calm reason. "Anthony, I can return Fai to life," he said smoothly. "But first you must go on that journey, and gather those feathers."

"You want me to do all the work, just for some stupid wish of yours! You never even told me what the wish was. You barely mentioned it, but I remember. Back then, I thought that maybe you wanted the same thing as me..."

"My wish... Yes, my wish is all important," Fei Wang Reed said patiently, ignoring Anthony's speculation. It was true, but not the way Anthony imagined, and Fei Wang Reed had no intention of enlightening a mere pawn. "Its fulfillment will allow me to do everything I promised for you. But first you must do those things for me."

Anthony stuck out his tongue and made a rude noise. Fei Wang Reed drew back in surprise.

Anthony said, "I'm not doing all that stupid work just for you! I don't even need you. So I don't need to help you get your wish. In fact, you shouldn't get your wish _ever!_"

"I must get my wish, you-you—you _teenager!_"

Anthony said, "No, no, I don't think you should ever get your wish."

"My wish will allow your brother to return to the living!"

"I don't need you for that," Anthony said. "I only need enough power." He held out his hand, and a magical memory feather glimmered above his palm.

Fei Wang Reed narrowed his eyes. Two of those feathers had been destined to fall into Peaksville. The wretched child had this one, so where was the other one? Fei Wang Reed made a show of being unconcerned.

"What good do you think that will do you?" he sneered. Inside, he felt a tiny quaver of trepidation, but he covered it with outward contempt.

The feather transformed into a dark brown lump. Anthony popped it into his mouth. He chewed and swallowed with obvious enjoyment.

"You-you-you _ate_ it?" Fei Wang Reed couldn't believe his eyes.

"I turned it into my mom's fudge, first. She makes the best fudge. She sweetens it with honey, and it's so delicious."

"The feather..."

"I've found a lot of them in a bunch of different worlds. There are probably more waiting out there, but they haven't gotten to all the worlds yet. They all seem to arrive at different times, and some are slower than others. It's really weird." Anthony looked thoughtful for a moment, but it passed. "I'm really super powerful now."

Fei Wang Reed groaned. The obnoxious little adolescent had been _consuming_ the feathers. Although they had not done so yet, and would not until everything and everyone was in the proper position, those feathers would one day scatter not only to different worlds, but also different times, even into the past. There was no telling how many Anthony had found—or how many he had yet to find. Many of the memory feathers had yet to arrive at their ultimate destinations.

No wonder Anthony had become so insanely powerful—far more so than he would have become through the natural growth of his own magic. This was a catastrophe. But it wasn't completely unsalvageable. All Fei Wang Reed needed to do was make sure that Anthony met the false desert princess. The false princess would absorb all her memories, and as for what would happen to Anthony when that event occurred...well, the brat had sealed his own fate.

Fei Wang Reed supposed he'd have to find another way to dispose of the false princess's other two traveling companions. Clearly, using Anthony for that purpose was no longer feasible.

"Where is Fai?"

The abrupt demand—accompanied by another voice crack—interrupted Fei Wang Reed's enjoyable scheming. "Your brother?"

"Where is he?" Anthony demanded again. "You'd better not have let him rot!"

"I have not," Fei Wang Reed said with perfect truth. It was time to use his ultimate lever against this snotty stripling. "Your brother is in exactly the same state in which you last saw him."

"So he's still broken?" Anthony asked.

"Yes," Fei Wang Reed said smugly. "I will repair his body only after you complete your part of our bargain."

"You'd better not be lying again." Anthony's blue eyes blazed with crackling power. "Now, you tell me where he is, and _don't lie!_"

To his utter horror, Fei Wang Reed found himself doing exactly that.

"You're a very bad man," Anthony said when Fei Wang Reed had finished. "You would have lied if I hadn't made you tell the truth." He scowled. "I'm going to go get Fai."

"No, you willful little worm, you will not. Not until you complete our bargain." Anthony might be absurdly powerful, but Fei Wang Reed was not without resources of his own, and it was past time he used them. At a mental call, his created minions rushed to the cavernous chamber.

Anthony didn't spare them so much as a single glance. "You're a really bad man," Anthony said, unimpressed. "Go away, monsters."

Fei Wang Reed's army disappeared. "Where did they go?" he blurted in surprise. They had all just vanished. How had the impudent youth disposed of so many without even blinking an eyelash?

"I sent them to the cornfield," said Anthony. "I sent every bad thing in this place there. I should send you there, too..." His voice trailed off, and his expression turned impish. "But I've thought of a better way to punish you."

"You stupid child!" This brat was a lost cause. Enraged, Fei Wang Reed lashed out at Anthony with all the magic at his command. The raw surge of pure, blazing energy engulfed the blond boy and should have torn him into atoms. Instead, an answering burst of power shattered all of Fei Wang Reed's, and shattered something inside him, too.

Fei Wang Reed gasped at the flash of incredible agony and clutched his chest. He felt lacerated inside, like shards of broken glass were slicing his vitals. Magical energy snapped and crackled, whirling in a fiery pillar right in front of him, circling and scintillating—controlled, but not by him.

The maelstrom vanished as abruptly as the monsters. Anthony stood in its place, untouched. "I really don't like you," he said.

"Wha—?" Fei Wang Reed hadn't even finished his question before his entire perspective changed. His field of vision was higher up, somehow, and facing his blank mirror. He couldn't speak, nor move his limbs. In fact, he couldn't feel his body at all. He could only move his eyes. He looked down, and saw the seat of his throne directly below him.

Anthony smiled at him, and it was a creepy smile. Fei Wang Reed would have panicked, but he felt strangely calm. He couldn't even feel his breathing or his heartbeat.

"See what I've done," said Anthony, giggling. The mirror became reflective.

In utterly profound shock, Fei Wang Reed gaped at his reflection—the reflection showing that he no longer had a body. His head was mounted on the backrest of his own throne.

"You don't have any magic at all anymore," said Anthony. "I broke it when you attacked me, then I took the pieces away when I took your body away. You can stay like this forever, for all I care."

With that, Anthony walked out of the room.


	15. Chapter 15

Fei Wang Reed still hadn't gotten over the shock and horror at what Anthony had done to him when that monster finally returned.

Anthony had not come alone.

Beside him shuffled the body of his brother, Fai. The undead boy's long, tangled hair dragged on the ground. The filthy strands were matted with dried blood. He was still dressed in his gore-stained tunic, and his body was gaunt, hollow, his features wizened, his skin gray and sickly. His blue eyes were dull and cloudy, and his skull was caved in on one side. He walked with an odd gait. Not surprising, as his body had been crushed in his fall from the tower in Valeria, and it looked as though Anthony had only done superficial repairs.

Anthony probably didn't know much about internal human anatomy or how it functioned.

Fei Wang Reed had left the body in that wretched condition deliberately, but it hadn't stopped Anthony from reanimating it. He shouldn't be surprised, as somehow Anthony had beheaded him and yet kept his head alive.

The shock of seeing both his tools parade before him managed to cut through the shock at finding himself a living head without a body. Barely.

Anthony beamed up at him. "You see, I told you I didn't need you."

Fei Wang Reed realized that he had created exactly the creature he had desired: a clinical psychopath with the power of a god. He just hadn't realized that his chosen puppet would become so much more powerful than himself, or that Anthony would cut his strings.

Anthony truly felt no compassion or empathy for others, not if he could do things like that and be so smugly pleased with himself. He truly believed that he should get whatever he wanted, without regard to what it cost others.

He had never learned any restraint, nor had any ever been applied to him. No one had taught him how to behave, how to control himself, or even to care to do so.

Just as Fei Wang Reed had planned.

Anthony's powers had never been bound or restricted in any way. For the first time, Fei Wang Reed understood what he had done, what he had set in motion. Anthony had not been raised by another magician, nor even exposed to any aside from Fei Wang Reed. As a result, Anthony had learned none of the ways magicians considered acceptable, no magical ethics or morality. He had not been raised by King Ashura of Seresu, and so he had never borne any magical markings to hinder the growth of his magic—and grown it had, to unimaginable levels. He had both his eyes, so his power was fully available to him without any effect upon his life force.

And that deviant little monster had been eating the princess's memory feathers, adding their awesome power to his own.

Fei Wang Reed had much experience at making monsters, and Anthony was easily the most nightmarish he had ever created. Fei Wang Reed had crafted his own doom.

Anthony put his hand on his brother's shoulder. "See, Fai, I've taken care of you. I've taken care of everything."

And the corpse-child spoke, "Yeeeessssss."

It was a horrible, grating sound. The walking corpse's vocal cords were stiff, but they moved, vibrating as air was pushed through them. Fai's chest expanded and contracted with an unnaturally steady rhythm. His filmy blue eyes blinked once, slowly, deliberately.

"What do you think of my trophy?" Anthony gestured at Fei Wang Reed's mounted head and giggled. "Just like that deer head Mister Adams has over his fireplace. That's where I got the idea." He giggled again. "He's still alive, you know. He's as alive as you are."

That was a telling statement. Fei Wang Reed wondered if it meant he was really dead, and just temporarily animated. Was this how the Dimension Witch felt? Did she exist in this same twisted state, a bizarre quantum captivity in which she was both alive and dead at once? At least she still had a body, and dwelled in a limbo where she seemed alive, and experienced some pretense of living. Her condition was probably better than his or the corpse-child's.

"Vaaalllerriiiaaa?" Fai said.

If Fei Wang Reed could have made a sound, he would have exclaimed with surprise. Had that disgusting, walking corpse actually initiated an idea on its own? Was it really possible that Fai had been animated enough to retain some of his old, residual memories and personality? Could he manage independent thought?

Anthony said, "Valeria's gone. Our new home is Peaksville. You and I are going back there together."

"Peeeaaakksssviiiillllle?"

"It's a really, really nice place. You'll like it there. No one will ever be cruel to either of us again. We'll live happily ever after, just like in the stories. You'll see."

What was that that Fei Wang Reed saw flash in Fai's milky-blue eyes? Pain? Did a walking corpse even feel pain?

But a walking corpse shouldn't have any memories or independent thoughts, either.

This one appeared to be in pain, and to have memories. Anthony, though, would never see it. He only cared that he had his brother back.

Fei Wang Reed wondered if Anthony had somehow managed to attach some shard of his brother's soul to this abominable, animated corpse. Or was the body just an automaton, operating on a handful of fragmentary memory remnants that allowed it to mimic the lost Fai?

He lost his train of thought when Anthony addressed him. "You can stay mounted up there until you fall apart," Anthony told him. "Things I bring back to life fall apart after a few months if I don't keep putting more magic into them. It's what you deserve for lying all along. Liars are bad. Any last words?" And that detestable brat smirked. "That's what they always ask the condemned before execution in the stories I've read."

Fei Wang Reed suddenly found his voice functioned again. Anthony must have done it with his magic. Fei Wang Reed lost no time in putting words to work. There was still a chance... "You can't do this. My plans—"

"I don't care." Anthony smiled down at his dead-but-mobile brother. "I don't care about your plans, or the future you want, or your stupid wish. All that matters is Fai. I'll keep him with me forever, and keep putting fresh magic in him so he won't fall apart. We'll be happy together."

No! Fei Wang Reed wanted to howl. Now the Dimension Witch would have free rein to manipulate the future as she wished! She would have no interference at all! It was insufferable! "You fool, I—"

"I told you, I don't care. Now shut up."

Fei Wang Reed again lost his ability to talk. It was impossible to speak without any lungs, and severed vocal cords, neck, nerves, and muscles.

Anthony said, "I don't care what happens. Peaksville will always be safe. It's isolated from everything else. Nothing can get in if I don't want it to get in. I don't care if it's the only place left in the whole, entire universe."

Yes, Fei Wang Reed thought sourly, he really had created the perfect psychopath.


	16. Chapter 16

Anthony reached down and took Fai's hand. "It's time to go to Peaksville, Fai. It's time to go home."

"Hooooome," rasped Fai. His milky eyes blinked once, twice.

Anthony frowned. He hadn't done as good a job reanimating his brother as he'd intended. He needed to do more repairs on Fai. "Yes, home. When we get home, I will fix a few more things with you. Mom will clean you up, and you can have my old clothes." He wrinkled his nose at the ragged prisoner's tunic that Fai still wore. He didn't want any reminders of the bad days from the distant past.

There would only be good days from now on.

He turned his back on that lying magician's head, and wished himself and Fai back to Peaksville.

They appeared in his bedroom, beside his bed. He could hear Mom and Dad talking downstairs. They hadn't even realized he'd been gone.

Fai stood motionless. "Yuuuuiiii—" he croaked in a harsh, ragged voice.

Oh, wow, it had been a long time since Anthony had heard that name. He remembered it, and he knew he had once been Yūi, but now he was Anthony. He had been Anthony for years and years. He was more Anthony than Yūi, but for Fai... He'd do anything for Fai.

Anthony said, "Yes, that's right." He smiled brilliantly at his brother, his twin who was now so much younger than himself. "You're right. I'm Yūi. I'm Yūi, and you're Fai."

He could be anyone he wanted, any time he wanted. He could do anything, anything at all, and Fai called him Yūi, so for Fai he'd try be Yūi again. He wondered if it would be as hard to become Yūi as it had been to become Anthony.

Anthony clapped his hands gleefully. "We've done it. We've really done it, Fai. We're together again, and this time we will never be separated."

In his joy, he never noticed the agony that flickered briefly in Fai's cloudy eyes, or the way his brother's papery, blue-gray lips mouthed the phrase, "I want to die," a faded echo of despairing words Fai had cried long ago in a hostile, frozen land.

"Mooom!" Anthony yelled out his door. "Daaad! I've got something to show you!"

When his parents appeared in his doorway, he never noticed the sick horror in their eyes when they saw Fai. "This is Fai!" he exclaimed happily. "He'll be living here with us, now! He's my brother!"

"Your brother, Anthony?" Dad asked softly.

"My twin brother. I've really, really missed him."

"Of course. Of course, he's your twin brother," Dad said evenly. "Of course, he is."

Anthony looked at Fai critically. "He needs a bath, though, and a haircut, and some clean clothes. Mom, where are my old clothes? Fai should have them."

Mom uttered a choked noise, then said, "I'll get them from the attic, son."

"Could you also make fried chicken for dinner tonight? Fai's never had fried chicken." Anthony frowned. "Oh, there won't be enough drumsticks for all of us." He, Fai, Mom, Dad, and Aunt Amy made five. "I'll make a five-legged chicken just as soon as I help Fai take a bath."

"That's— That's wonderful, son." Mom practically ran out of the room.

"Fai's been dead for a long time, Dad," Anthony said to his father. "But I brought him back to life."

Dad inhaled deeply and stared at Fai. "That's real good, son. You did a real good thing. Um, I'll go help your mother in the attic." He left, too, breathing hard.

Anthony preened, he was so pleased. "Fai, did you see? Mom and Dad are both happy you're here. It's all good. You'll like it here. Everyone is real nice here, and they always tell me how good I am. They'll love you, too."

Fai stood silently.

Anthony said, "Come on, I'll help you get cleaned up. Then you'll get nice clothes. Oh, we're going to have so much fun." He took a few steps to the door, and realized Fai wasn't following him. Impatiently, he ordered, "Come on, Fai."

With stiff, jerky steps like a wooden marionette, Fai complied.

Anthony watched, frowning a little at the clumsy way Fai walked. "You aren't moving naturally."

Fai staggered, stopped again, and stared up with blank eyes.

Anthony shook his head. "I suppose it's only to be expected. You've been dead a long time. I'm sure it will get better for you with time and practice. You've only just come back. And if you don't get better on your own, I can use magic to make you better." He put an arm around his long-lost brother, and hugged him. "I've missed you so much. You don't know how much I've missed you. Everything I've done in my life, I've done for you. To bring you back, so we could be together again. Wasn't that nice of me?"

"Yeeeessss," Fai wheezed and gargled. "Iiit wasss niiiiice."

"Yes, it was. And now we'll be together forever and ever. Nothing will ever separate us again." Anthony took his brother's hand. "Let's go wash your hair, now, shall we? And a haircut. Definitely a haircut. No one has hair that long here. Not even the girls."

"Yeeeessss."

"While Mom is making dinner, we can watch some television. You've never seen television, but it's really neat. I used to really like watching dinosaur shows. After I moved Peaksville to its own place, I had to make the images myself, though. We got cut off from the places that sent the television pictures." Anthony frowned briefly. "So for you to see it, I'll have to make the pictures myself again." Then he had a great idea. "I should put dinosaurs back in the world! I could do it. I can make all kinds of creatures. That way we can see the real thing." He cackled. "It'll be so much better if it's real."

"Yeeeessss."

Anthony smiled contentedly. It was so nice to have his brother back.

And so Anthony, who was also Yūi, had his heart's desire. He got everything he wanted, just like always, and he lived happily ever after.

**~ end ~**

_October 2013_


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